Just Another Day in Mystic Falls
by TeamDean79
Summary: The Winchesters take on a case that seems to be fairly typical, they've just got some vampires to kill. But they then realize that they're mistaken when they meet the Salvatores and the problems that come with them. This is my first fanfiction!
1. Chapter 1

**Well, this is my very first fanfiction story. I am extremely nervous that I'm a crappy writer, so please, please tell me whether or not it's good. Supernatural and the Vampire Diaries are my favorite shows, by the way, so that's why I chose these. I thought that it would be very funny and very cool if the Winchesters met the Salvatores.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, that right belongs to Eric Kripke. I don't own the Vampire Diaries either, L.J. Smith created them.**

**Timelines: For Supernatural, it is set in Season Five, sometime after "Abandon All Hope." I don't know the exact names of the Vampire Diaries episodes, but it's not long after the vampires are released from the tomb.**

**So, read on! I hope you like it!**

**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

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Chapter 1

Mystic Falls, Virginia.

Sam and Dean Winchester had a job there. Sam had found police reports in the town about murders where the bodies were drained of their blood. The murders had been heavy when they first started, sometimes in beginning to mid-September, and then there hardly seemed to be any attacks at all. Recently, though, the attacks had picked up again and were becoming more and more frequent. The authorities told the public that they were animal attacks. But Sam and Dean, being the hunters that they were, knew better than that.

They had vampires on their hands.

It couldn't be told how many, but it seemed to be more than one. They didn't all seem to be part of one group—or coven, whatever you wanted to call it. Sam had begun to consider some thoughts about what could be happening in Mystic Falls, depending on the information he had found.

There were at least two separate covens in the town, and they were fighting with each other. What about, Sam had no idea. In that case scenario, Sam guessed that one of the covens might be killing humans freely and the other may be more animal blood-oriented, like Lenore's coven they'd met a few years back. It was an interesting theory; a war between vampires. No one knew the outcome of it or what could have brought it on in the first place.

Then, one couldn't be sure that there were actual covens.

Mystic Falls was just an average small town. There was one bar there, and high school dances and such. They celebrated things like the founder's day, when the town was first discovered. Descendants of said founders lived and grew up in the town today. It was just a small town, nothing more.

But the Winchesters had a case there.

"Okay, so…this Mystic Falls place, just a regular, boring little town, right?" Dean asked.

"Right."

"And there are vampires there."

"Yeah."

"What the hell would vampires be doing in a little place like that?"

"I dunno, man."

Dean shrugged. "I mean, no offense against the vamps, but they must not have high standards if they're making lunch out of the citizens of a town that hardly anyone's ever heard of."

Sam looked at his brother. He really wasn't sure how all that could count as 'no offense against the vamps.'

"Hey," he said suddenly, "you think they might be working for Lucifer?"

"That would make even _less_ sense. I mean, unless he's decided to flip the orginal plan and take out the small towns that no one cares about first."

"Yeah," Sam agreed quietly. "But, still…you think he'd have vampires working for him?"

"Evil working with evil? Dunno, sounds pretty reasonable to me."

"Yeah, but…vampires? Just doesn't seem like someone Lucifer would work with, and it does at the same time."

"Well, we don't understand them. We're not them. I don't really care. We kill us some evil vamps, great. We kill us some evil vamps working with Lucifer, even greater. Either way, we're saving people…now, anyway. If they don't die in the end."

Sam had no idea why the idea of vampires working for Lucifer came to him. It was probably because every damn thing that happened to them or that they dealt with had something to do with the Apocalypse.

But, either way, whether it was apocalyptic or not, they had to take care of it. They had some vampires to kill and lives to save.

* * *

Damon Salvatore exited the Mystic Grill with Elena Gilbert at his side.

"So," Elena said slowly, "what are we gonna do about the vampires from the tomb?"

Damon sighed. "I don't know yet. It would help a lot if Pearl just took all her loyal followers and skipped town, so it wouldn't be our problem anymore."

Elena sighed too. "Damon, we couldn't just take our problems and give them to someone else to take care of."

"Why not?"

"Damn it, Damon, you know why. Here, there's a chance that we could save lives. If the vampires were someplace else, where people didn't even know that vampires existed, a lot bigger number of people could die than how many are dying now, here."

"Well, I don't care about people," Damon said, shrugging.

Elena just shook her head, laughing under her breath.

"What?" Damon demanded.

"That's just—a typical 'Damon' response."

"A typical 'Damon' response," Damon repeated.

"Yes." Elena nodded firmly.

"…what the hell does that mean?"

"You show people a bad boy act. You try to convince people that you care about no one and nothing but yourself and your _next meal_."

Damon rolled his eyes, but allowed Elena to continue without interruption.

"Well, I can see right through that bad boy act."

"Oh, can you?"

"Yes. You act like you could give less of a crap about the world and all the people in it. But you're not anywhere _near_ as badass as you pretend to be. You care. You care about your brother, you care about your hometown, you care about whether I live or die, and hell, you even care about the people in this town."

Damon thought, _she looks really hot in that leather jacket, _before laughing quietly and shaking his head. "I believe you're mistaken."

"No, I'm not."

"How do you know?"

"Because if you didn't care about the fates of the citizens of Mystic Falls, you would've left as soon as you found out that Katherine wasn't in the tomb. No, you're sticking around that no one gets eaten. So yeah, you care, whether you want to show it or not."

Damon shrugged. "I'm just doing a community service. I've got nothing better to do to save you humans' pathetic lives."

Elena nodded, a bit of a self-confident smirk on her face. "Mm-hm. Okay. Well, it doesn't matter whether you admit it or not. I know that you give a damn. So does Stefan."

Damon glanced at her. So…so maybe she was right. Maybe he was sympathetic that these humans in his town weren't strong enough to defend themselves. And maybe he didn't really want Stefan dead.

Or maybe he just did what he did to spite the vampires that did the damage in the first place. He decided quickly that he chose the latter.

The sound of deep, growling engine in a classic car made them both look up, along with pretty much everyone else on the sidewalks that evening.

A black 1967 Chevrolet Impala came down that street at a speed about fifteen miles above the limit. Damon knew that even if he didn't have his enhanced vampire hearing, he would have been able to hear AC/DC's "Back in Black" blasting over the car stereo. Everything about it screamed threat and danger, that anyone around that couldn't take the heat had better watch their step.

Damon smirked. He loved a challenge, especially when the one providing the challenge was in over his head—which, when challenging Damon Salvatore, was always.

This was definitely a challenge. The black Impala blaring AC/DC stuck out like a sore thumb in Mystic Falls. This was somebody daring to be bold in a small, quiet town.

"Who are _they_?" Elena wondered aloud, staring at the Impala.

Damon shrugged. "Probably the cavalry," he replied.

Despite the casualness of his remark, though, Damon had a feeling that things were about to get _very_ interesting, a feeling that excited him.

**

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So, what'd you think? Not bad?


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm back! I'm trying to update as fast as possible so people reading my story don't get pissed with me, and so that I'm pleased with myself. Thank you to my reviewer, Slinky-and-the-BloodyWands. I hope you, as well as others, would just like to skip on down to the story. I'm trying to make it good, so let me know if I am.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Vampire Diaries or Supernatural.**

**On with the show!**

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**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

Chapter 2

"Well, at least it wasn't as much as a craphole as I thought it would be," Dean commented.

And, it wasn't. Mystic Falls was a nice town, with generally nice people living in it. The motel that they were staying in wasn't even that bad. Despite the pleasantry of Mystic Falls, though, Sam felt an edge to it, like there was more than was showed. It was like an instinct that told him that something was wrong here.

Maybe, if that instinct was right, the vampires were more into the system than they thought.

They parked the Impala in front of the police department, where maybe two other cars were parked with them. They were going to talk to the sheriff, to see what she had to say about the murders, and if there was anything conveniently left out of the "police report," or something that neither of them just found out on Sam's laptop. Dressed in suits, fake I.D's ready, they got out of the car and headed towards the entrance. Dean led the way, only to have the door opened in his face.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry!" gasped a female voice.

"No, no…you've got nothing to be sorry about at all," Dean said, once the door was back in its proper place and he could see the young woman. She was no more than a teenager, but pretty hot and curvy for a teenager, with long, wavy, blonde hair and perky blue eyes, dressed in a pink mini-skirt and a white tank top.

She gave him a once-over and said, "My mom's the sheriff."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I'm Caroline, by the way! I'll see you around."

And she went over to one of the cars—Dean was too focused on her to see the kind—and drove off.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Come on, Dean, before you get arrested for looking at the sheriff's daughter."

"Yeah," Dean said absently.

Sam raised his eyebrows, waiting.

Dean took notice of that after a few moments. "What? So she's too young for me, that doesn't mean that I can't enjoy the view."

"We do have a job here, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, shut up."

They went inside the department, a warm, small area with a desk at the front with no one behind it. Actually, no one was anywhere to be seen.

"Can I help you boys?"

They both turned simultaneously. A woman dressed in a police suit was coming up to them, a folder in her hands. She had short, blond hair and blue eyes that did resemble Caroline's quite a bit. She was short and petite and appeared non-threatening but Sam could see that she was all-business and could take care of herself.

"Sheriff Forbes?" Sam asked.

"Yes." She nodded.

"I'm Detective Johnson, this is Detective Marx," Dean said as they both pulled out their badges to show her.

She examined them both before nodding. "I'm betting you're here about the animal attacks."

"Yeah," Dean said as he and Sam put their fake I.D's away. "We read that there was blood completely drained from the bodies—I can't think of any animal that would do that."

"Me neither," she replied, "but we don't know the minds of animals that well, do we?"

"True," Sam said slowly. That was an…odd response. He didn't even have to glance at his brother to know that he was thinking the same thing.

"Were the bodies mutilated at all?" Dean asked. So he was trying a new tactic; demons performing rituals. It seemed pretty off-course from what they'd gotten off the internet, but hey, who knew. Besides, Sheriff Forbes was being pretty strange about this.

"No," she replied. "Why would you think that? It wasn't it the police report."

"…just wanted to be sure," Dean replied, shrugging.

"It's the only thing it could possibly be," Sheriff Forbes said almost exasperatedly. "Besides, we live near the woods, and most of the animal attacks have happened near the woods."

Dean nodded. "You don't think that this is all kind of strange?"

"Strange _how_?" Sheriff Forbes demanded.

Sam, wishing he could speak with his brother telepathically, thought, _Dean, quit pissing her off._ But he seemed to get the idea.

"Never mind. Would you like us to get animal control to take a long through the woods?" Dean asked, staying in character."

"No," Sheriff Forbes said quickly. "Uh, we can handle it. Thank you for coming here, but there's nothing you can do."

"Great. Well, thank you for your time," Sam said.

The brothers left the station without another word.

"Well, that was weird," Sam commented as they got into the Impala.

"Ya think?" Dean started the engine of his car. "I think Sheriff Forbes knows more than we think."

Sam suddenly had the strange feeling of someone watching him. Or, more particularly, them. He wondered if Dean felt it too, but he didn't comment.

_Vampires suck,_ he thought out of nowhere.

* * *

Stefan Salvatore moved with inhuman speed to his bag upstairs in his bedroom. He'd heard his cell phone ringing from outside the house. He quickly pushed things out of the way and pulled his cell phone out. On the I.D. said "Bobby."

Stefan couldn't help but smile. He hadn't talked to Bobby in a long time. He opened the phone and put it to his ear. "Hey, Bobby."

"Stefan. Damn, it's good to talk to you, boy. You still the good brother?"

"Yup."

"Damon hasn't been hanging around, has he?"

"Yes," Stefan sighed. "About the past five months he's been here."

"Great. That boy just can't take a hint, can he?"

"Oh, he can," Stefan said. "He just doesn't care."

He practically heard Bobby roll his eyes.

"True. Are you back home, kid? Back in Mystic Falls?"

Stefan grinned. Bobby Singer, a friend of his since Bobby had just started hunting, still called him and Damon 'kids,' even though he knew full well that they were in truth one hundred and forty-six years older than their appearances showed them to be. Bobby was smart and knew a lot about hunting, including every single thing about Stefan and the colorful history of Mystic Falls.

"Yeah. Damon's been…having _fun_." Damon's sick, demented kind of fun. "But we've gotten him under control a bit."

"Good. Speaking of 'we,' how's Zach? I tried calling him."

Stefan sighed. "Zach's dead, Bobby."

There was a silence over the phone.

"Damon wouldn't…would he?"

"He did. Damon killed him."

"…that son of a bitch! And you haven't killed him yet?"

This was a difficult question of answer for Stefan. "I've wanted to, Bobby, I know he's done things that are unforgivable, but…he's my brother. And I think he's getting better. We've got some other problems; there are new vampires in town. Well, not exactly new. The tomb that the vampires were burnt in one hundred and forty-six years ago?"

"Yeah?"

"They didn't die. Katherine's assistant, Emily, did a spell to save them. There was one way to open it, and it was destroyed. Damon wanted to get in to get Katherine out. But Bonnie Bennett, Emily's descendant, and her grandmother opened the tomb again. Katherine wasn't in there, but other vampires were. And they got out. Pearl was in there, she was one of them, and she got out too. Her daughter, Anna—Annabelle in 1864—had gotten her out. These vampires are killing freely. Pearl says she wants things to be like they were in 1864. We try to explain to her that they can't be, but she won't listen. And the vampires are just killing as they wish. Pearl doesn't like that, but she isn't stopping it. We need Damon now. We need his help."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Elena and I."

"Oh. Elena, you told me about her. She looks just like Katherine. So, what, is she your girlfriend or something?"

"Uh, yes."

"…really. Does she know about you, the history of the town? Does she know about _Damon_?"

"Yeah, she does. It surprised me that she wanted to stay with me afterwards. It scares me, I'm afraid that I'll hurt her, or Damon will. But Damon doesn't seem to be about to purposely hurt her…I think Damon's less likely to hurt her than I am. She knows the risks but she stays with me anyway, she even puts up with Damon. And now, she wants to help save her town."

There was a short silence.

Then, "Damn, I've missed a lot."

Stefan laughed. "Yeah, you have."

"Well, sorry that I'm the one to tell you this, since you've already got plenty of problems."

Stefan frowned. "What is it?"

"You…might have a few _more_ problems."

"How's that?"

"I've got a couple of friends of mine that told me they're hunting vampires in Virginia…"

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**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey! Thank you to those of you who reviewed, you guys rock! I'm writing this chapter while listening to "Another One Bites the Dust" by Queen. It's a really cool song, in my opinion.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the Vampire Diaries; they belong to Eric Kripke and L.J. Smith.**

**Hope you like this chapter!**

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**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

Chapter 3

"We don't know much besides the fact that the murders are mostly happening around or near the woods," Sam said, reading over the information on his computer once again to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

"What exactly are you trying to find out right now?" Dean asked, looking over to where Sam sat at the table from his spot on his bed where he sharpened several wooden stakes. Even though they weren't making much progress finding out where the vampires were, Dean wanted to be ready to go in and take care of the job. It would feel good to kill something evil, he figured.

Even if it would do absolutely nothing to prevent the impending doom of the literal end of the world.

"I'm trying to find out where these vampires might have set up camp for now," Sam replied. "We could go in, behead some, stake some, and for the ones we can't get, we'll go during the day and set the place on fire."

Dean shrugged. "Sounds like a plan."

"Yeah. Except for the fact that I have no idea where they might be. The murders were in or near the woods, sure, but the vamps probably just took the bodies there trying to dispose of them in a way. If that _was_ the intention, it wasn't carried out too well; the bodies weren't too deep in there."

"Um…" Dean shook his head, trying to think. "Any places that are kind of out of the way of the main crowd, maybe abandoned. You could look for that."

Sam nodded, searching over the internet. There are a couple farms out of the way…here's one. People who go out that way for whatever reason, if they're coming into or leaving town, say they hear sounds coming from this one farmhouse. During the night, mostly, but they say that despite the fact that it's been abandoned for years, the windows are painted black or covered with rugs or blankets."

Dean sat up a little more and started whittling the stakes harder and faster. "Did anyone ever go to investigate?"

Sam nodded, finding himself coming across yet another police report. "Two policemen went inside to check it out. One officer said he didn't find anything and left. He said that the other wanted to stay a little longer because he felt like he was missing something. Well, he never came out. He was missing for days, until someone found him dead in some bushes around the woods, body drained of blood."

Dean nodded, considering that. "Someone doesn't like authorities."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"All right, we'll head there." Dean made sure that the stake that was currently in his hand was as sharp as he wanted it, then put down his knife. "By the way, Sam?"

Sam got up from the table. "Yeah?"

"Since you wanted to get on this case, if we get eaten I'm going to consider it your fault."

Sam nodded. "I'm okay with that. We just gotta do our best not to get eaten. Besides," he added, "if we die, we'll probably just come back."

"True," Dean agreed, "but I really don't wanna come back as a bloodsucker."

"Me neither."

* * *

"Just a couple of rebels, you think?" Stefan asked. Damon had just informed him of some reported activity and noises coming from an old farmhouse that was kinda out in the middle of nowhere.

"Couple of partiers, anyway," Damon said. "People who're just coming in or out of town say that they've heard sounds coming from the place. Music, talking…hell, even screaming sometimes. At the very least, it sounds like vampires. They're probably some of Pearl's little gang, ones that don't want to go along with the house rules."

Damon had just come back from a talk with Sheriff Forbes. She told him about the farmhouse, but she also told him about two detectives—they were F.B.I. or C.I.A. or something, how was Damon supposed to be expected to remember that kind of stuff?—that had acted a little off. She told him that there was something about them that didn't seem quite normal, and Damon had told her that he would keep an eye, so hey, he would. If they were more evil vampires, he would kill them. If they were just annoying humans…he'd probably kill them too.

"Does Elena know about this?" Stefan asked Damon, who shook his head.

"Good. She'd wanna try to fight with us. She's brave…"

"But a little stupid too," Damon finished. "That's all right, depending on the time and place. At least she isn't a coward, like a lot of humans. Hmm. I like my brother's girlfriend," he said quietly, musingly. "Better be careful, Stefan, I just might take your girl…"

"I'm not worried," Stefan said confidently.

"Oh, you're not?"

"No."

"Why's that?"

"Because my girl wouldn't take you."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Damon said, even more confident than Stefan. "Girls tend to like the bad boys."

"We'll see about that."

Damon nodded, feeling, as he often did, the wisdom that came with being the older sibling. "I guess we will."

"In the meantime, though, we should go and take care of those vampires. If they're a threat to the town, we have to kill them."

Damon rolled his eyes. "If someone's a threat, we have to kill them. If someone wants to put these pathetic humans out of their misery, we have to kill them. Why do we have to kill them, huh? We could just let them have their fun. Fun, Stef, remember that? F-U-N. Four letter word meaning 'enjoyment.' We won't let them kill the whole town…maybe just half of it."

Stefan turned to his brother. "You can't seriously mean that."

"Why not? I thought you were getting over the fact that _there is __no humanity in me_."

"I am. But I don't think that means that you're one hundred percent monster. This is your town, Damon. You're gonna just let someone come in and destroy it? You're just gonna decide that you don't have any pride, don't care, about what's yours?"

Damon sighed. His brother had him there. "True. That would mean just laying down and giving up, which is something that I just don't do. All right, we'll take care of the vamps. If I ever get to talk to Pearl again, I've got a little message for her, coming personally from Damon Salvatore himself."

Stefan nodded. "I think I do, too, but I'm sure that once you get your point across, she'll understand."

Damon nodded, too. He wanted to stab something, anyway, just to get the tension that came with so many problems out of his bones. "So…" he walked slowly over to the wall and grabbed an axe that rested in two hooks on the wall in one hand a wooden stake from the nearby desk in the other, swinging the axe over his shoulder. "Let's kill us some vampires, shall we?"

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**What'd you think? Next chapter will be the fight, and the two sets of brothers will finally meet!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, it's me! Again! Are you getting sick of me yet? If not, I hope you like this chapter. If you don't like the fight scenes, I can edit it. After you read and hopefully review it, if you could take the time to click on my profile and vote on my new poll, that'd be great.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Vampire Diaries or Supernatural, they belong to L.J. Smith and Eric Kripke.**

**I hope you like this! (It's going to be a long one, so brace yourselves).**

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**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

Chapter 4

Dean parked the Impala at the end of the driveway, partly on the road and partly on the lawn in case they needed to make a quick getaway. The farmhouse was old and brick and looked like it was about to fall apart. The windows were painted totally black, and some of the windows were just blocked, impossible to see into, almost opaque. Those were probably the rugs and blankets covering them. He had anything to fight vampires; wooden stakes, his favorite machete, and a few capped syringes filled with dead man's blood. Sam was also armed with the same. After doing a quick check of their weapons after getting them from the trunk, they walked up the driveway and towards the house.

"How do you think we get in?" Dean asked Sam.

"Uh…throw the door open? So the sunlight gets to any of them that it can. It'll help us with the job," Sam replied.

"Right."

They continued up the driveway. It was a _long_ driveway.

The hunt felt weird to Sam. Almost like they weren't alone, like they had backup somewhere. Or _they _were backup. He glanced at Dean, who didn't look as weird as he felt. But Dean looked at him, and it was then that Sam realized that he was staring.

"What?" Dean demanded.

"Does this hunt feel…_weird_ to you?" Sam asked, feeling awkward.

"…no. What, are you Psychic Wonder again?"

"No, it's just…intuition, I guess?"

Dean stared at him.

"Never mind. We've got some vampires to kill."

Dean just nodded, and they went up to the door. They glanced at each other. Sam mouthed, _"One…two…three."_ And shoved the door open.

They were greeted with hissing as vampires scrambled away from the sunlight, their skin smoking. One vampire threw itself on Dean's back, jerking his head back. Whatever it meant to do, it didn't have the opportunity. Dean drove his stake into the vamp's back from behind. The vampire released its grip, and Dean turned around. The vampire looked to have been a young woman when she was turned. And she was looking pissed.

"You missed," she hissed, and yanked the stake out of her back. Dean saw and quickly realized that he'd missed the heart. Great.

Two more vampires leapt to that scene, and they and Dean traded blows. During that time, someone grabbed Sam's arms from behind, probably right behind him. So Sam jerked his head back and felt it connect with something hard. The arms released him. He turned around and threw his fist into the vampire's face. It jerked his head to the side, but it wasn't enough to send him down. He kicked Sam in the stomach, knocking the air out of him and sending him flying across the room. Slightly dazed, Sam felt himself get lifted off of the floor and right off of his feet. Something that felt like nails raked across his chest, and Sam gritted his teeth as he felt the blood run from his wounds.

"Mm, looks like he'd be fun to play with," he heard a feminine voice murmur.

Sam grunted with effort as he tried to focus.

Meanwhile, Dean was struggling with what felt like three vampires. One, the one he'd tried to stake, was doing a good number on his back. A second female vampire watched as a male vamp slammed his fist into Dean's gut repeatedly. But Dean was getting tired of it. He jerked his elbow back towards the vampire behind him, feeling that he'd knocked her off of balance. The male vampire in front of him slammed his fist into Dean's face. Dean's head snapped back, but he quickly responded by grabbing the vamp and slamming his knee into his gut.

The vamp would be disoriented for just for a second, Dean knew. So he turned, grabbed his stake, and put it into chest of the vampire he'd staked before with no success. She gasped, and Dean literally saw the poison of the wood invade her veins.

"Didn't miss this time, did I, honey?"

Dean's victory was short-lived, though, because his head was jerked back, and something exceptionally sharp touched his throat.

"You know, two things you'll learn about vampires," the guy vamp murmured in his ear. "One: We don't take the death of a fellow coven member well. Two: Just because we have fangs doesn't mean we don't like to play with other sharp things too."

The blade didn't cut his throat though. It was embedded deeply into his shoulder. Dean gritted his teeth against crying out or groaning, feeling that the knife hadn't hit any vital arteries—it might've even missed a vein, it could be purely muscular damage—at the same time he felt the pain. But it pissed him off enough to fuel him to fight back. He shoved the vampire off of him and yanked the knife out of his shoulder. He only had a second though. Something caught him off guard from behind and threw him on the floor.

The second female vampire, the one who'd watch the big vampire guy beat the crap out of him, knelt down by him and said, "He's right, you know. We're very protective of our covens. And I'm going to miss Katie very, _very_ much. I think I'll take it out on you."

She grabbed his head by his short hair and threw it back into the decaying—but still hard—floorboards. Dean felt a strong board give with a snap before he heard it. His head throbbed. That could be nothing good. He was dizzy and disoriented, and nauseous now. The vamps could kill him right then and there and he wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. Luckily, though, that didn't seem the idea at the moment.

Sam shoved his fist into the guy vamp's stomach with as much energy as he could muster, sending him stumbling backwards. He heard the female give a catlike growl in his ear. He shoved her off, too. He found his stake in his jacket packet and went after the male vamp while he was still getting up.

But an unexpected force knocked him off of his feet. Something grabbed him legs and dragged him towards them.

Dean planted his foot into the vampire's chest and shoved, sending her falling away from him and to the side.

Sam slammed his feet against the force holding him and got to his feet. He joined Dean in the center of the room. They were back to back, analyzing the enemies. There were the four original vampires that had attacked them there, but five others had came out from wherever they were hiding from. They circled the Winchesters, most of them growling, with their game faces out; eyes glowing and fangs snarling.

"Crap," Dean muttered. They'd only expected a couple of vamps, not _nine_. Sam wondered how the hell they were going to get out of this.

"You guys need a hand?"

They looked up, as well as the vampires around them, to see two figures, both male, one dressed all in black including a leather jacket and the other dressed in blue jeans, a white shirt, and a leather jacket as well, that one taller than the black-clad one. They stood near the door, their stances almost casual. The black-clad one held an axe almost nonchalantly in one hand, tossing it from one hand to the other like it was a baseball bat and he was about to swing.

"Guess you don't need to answer that one," the black clad one observed. He was the one who'd spoken first.

"Sorry to barge in on all your fun," he said loudly, speaking more to the vampires, "but, it's over."

And he swung the axe, slicing the head of the male vampire standing near him, the one who had attacked Sam, clean off.

They set it off. The female vampire who had threatened Dean leapt forward, and Dean staked her, shoving her down as soon as he'd seen that he'd nailed his target.

A female vampire grabbed Sam by one arm and flipped him clean off his feet and onto his back on the floor. He grunted, but kept a strong grip on his stake. She saw that and immediately knocked it off of his hand. She bared her fangs, snarling viciously. But suddenly the weight of her was taken off of him. He saw the one in blue jeans, T-shirt and leather jacket lifting her off of him as though she weighed nothing. Then he tossed her across the room, causing her to slam against the wall. He then pulled Sam to his feet, grabbed the stake off the ground, and rammed it into a nearby male vampire's back before returning it to Sam.

"Thanks," Sam said, and then the vampire was gone. He took just a second to think, _This is wicked,_ before throwing himself into the action once more.

* * *

Damon threw the male vampire on the floor and slammed his stake into his heart, showing no mercy whatsoever. Damn it, he didn't have time for mercy. Although, when he saw the virus-like poison of the wood spread quickly through the vampire's veins, he remembered how painful that was and briefly felt sympathy for the vamp. Then, though, he noticed the shorter of these two _marvelously _brave vampire hunters struggling with the girl vampire. He had the stake gripped in his hand, and had it aimed downward towards her chest, but she had his wrist gripped in a even tighter and unbreakable hold, holding him back, preventing the killing from happening.

Damon rushed to them with inhuman speed and knocked the female vampire off of balance. Before she could fall to the ground, though, he caught her so that his hands gripped her arms and her back was towards him, and so that she was held still, for the most part. The short one rammed his stake into her heart, and she gave a pained gasp. Damon dropped her to the ground as soon as he saw that she was dying.

"Thanks, dude," the short one said briefly.

"No problem, dude," Damon replied and headed off into the direction of the vampire he'd seen Stefan toss up against the wall just a few minutes previously.

The vampire grabbed his arms, trying to prevent him from doing any damage to her, but Damon could feel her weakness. She probably hadn't had any blood in a while. He jerked his arms from her grasp and grabbed her by the hair.

"Sorry, babe, business is business." And with that, he sliced her head off, feeling at least glad that her death was quick.

He staked the vampire behind him in the heart the moment he felt his presence.

The tall, shaggy-haired vampire hunter had just staked a male vampire who'd been going at him with the intention of breaking his neck. Damon nodded to himself. There were only two vampires to take care of now…well, not including he and his brother. Damon smirked at that.

His brother was across the room, wrestling with a female vampire that had clearly had some good vampire "super juice" recently; she was putting up a hell of a fight. Stefan knocked her off balance for a moment, looking around for a weapon. Damon, seeing that, threw the machete to his brother, where he caught the handle swiftly. He'd decapitated her in the matter of a second.

Damon looked up just to see the tall one stake the female vampire that the short was struggling with. And that was the end of it; all of the vampires here were dead. Except for him and Stefan, of course.

Damon glanced back and forth between the humans. Both were bruised and bleeding. Either they weren't very experienced vampire hunters, or they hadn't expected this many vampires to be there. Damon hadn't expected that either, but he had the experience on his side. A hundred and forty-six years worth of experience, actually.

Stefan was looking between both humans too.

"Are you guys all right?"

The tall one nodded. The short one replied breathlessly, "Oh, yeah; nifty."

Damon stared at him for a second. "Did you just say 'nifty?'"

The short one just shrugged. He clearly wasn't the type of guy that said 'nifty' often, but at the moment he didn't seem to care. Damon knew how he felt.

"Are you two Sam and Dean Winchester?" Stefan asked the both of them.

Well, Damon had no idea where that came from. Who the hell were Sam and Dean Winchester?

The tall one nodded. "Yeah."

Well. Now Damon knew who Sam and Dean Winchester were. He took a guess and thought that the tall one with shaggy hair was Sam and the shorter one with short, cropped hair was Dean.

"What's it to you?" the one Damon had concluded as Dean demanded of Stefan.

"I believe we have a mutual friend," Stefan replied. "Bobby Singer?"

The humans both nodded simultaneously.

"Ah, Bobby," Damon said, remember things aloud. "Wonder if he still has that scar from New York City…"

Stefan gave him a warning, almost pissed off look. The humans, Sam and Dean looked up at him. The short one, Dean, had 'What the hell is he talking about?' along with a very pissed off look written all over his face.

"It was a while ago," Damon explained. "I kinda almost accidently killed him. Good thing my saintly little brother over there stopped me, huh?" he nodded to Stefan once.

The humans looked at Damon, then at Stefan, then at each other, then at Stefan, then at Damon, and then at Stefan again.

"Who are you?" the short one demanded of Stefan.

"I can't explain that now," Stefan said. "We need to get you guys taken care. From what I know about you, you can't go to a hospital. So, we'll have to use makeshift supplies."

Both boys simultaneously raised their eyebrows, staring at Damon's brother like he was missing something. Damon understood, and rolled his eyes.

"Uh, Stef, I think they've done that before."

"Right."

Stefan glanced around at the bodies of the dead vampires, and the human hunters followed suit.

"So. What're we gonna do about these remains?" it was the short one, Dean Winchester, that asked.

Damon shrugged. "Burn this place."

"Are you sure?" Stefan asked, staring at him like he'd suggested a nearly impossible thing. "That'd attract authorities, if anyone called them because they saw this."

Damon shrugged again, even more nonchalantly. "Don't worry, I got it covered."

"Really. Are you in with the authorities or something?" the tall one, Sam, asked him skeptically.

"As a matter of fact I am, Sammy," Damon replied. Sam gave him a hard glare, and Damon decided that he was not all right with being called "Sammy."

Which, of course, meant that Damon would call Sam "Sammy" as often as possible.

They began making their way out of the farmhouse, often stepping over severed heads and bodies. When they got to the door, Damon said brightly, "So, was that fun or what?"

* * *

**This was a hard chapter for me to write: I'm not that great at fight scenes. I do think I did pretty good with the characters, though. Tell me what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, I'm back! I'm glad that you liked the fight scene. Also: I've recently discovered that listening to "All Star" by Smash Mouth helps me concentrate, especially if I'm writing a fight scene. Pretty wicked, huh?**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the Vampire Diaries. They belong to Eric Kripke and L.J. Smith.**

**Hope you like this!**

* * *

**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

Chapter 5

Sam looked over his shoulder the shorter guy. 'So, was that fun or what?' If he thought that killing a bunch of vamps was fun, he had a wicked sense of humor.

"Or what," he replied. The guy just shrugged.

Once they were out the door, the guy stepped a few paces away from the rest of them, pulled out a cell phone, and pushed only a couple of buttons, which probably meant that whoever he was calling he had on speed dial. He waited, rolling his eyes like he wasn't patient enough to wait for a couple of rings. It was just a second before he said, quite loudly, "Hey, Sheriff Forbes! Good to talk to you."

He waited a few seconds before saying, "Well, we took care of that little problem in the farmhouse. And yes, it was vampires. They're dead."

There was another pause. The guy grinned. "You don't need to thank me, I like doing this. Saving the townspeople, you know? Considering they don't know enough about the world to protect themselves properly." He sighed, a little too dramatically to be legit.

Sam looked over at Dean too see that he was thinking the same thing as he was: 'Who the hell _are_ these guys?'

As the shorter and seemingly cockier of the two continued talking to Sheriff Forbes on the phone—which surprised Sam; he would have questions later—the taller one in blue jeans turned to them and asked, "Are you guys all right?"

"Think we'll live through a few more minutes," Dean replied to him before glancing at Sam and asking, "You all right, Sammy?"

Sam just nodded. He didn't feel the need to over-dramatize it, as Dean seemed to.

"All right," the guy in all black announced, flipping his cell phone shut, "it's all cleared with Sheriff Forbes. I'm gonna torch this place. Fire; best way to clean something up if there ever was one. While I'm getting that taken care of, you, my brother, can go get our brave little vampire hunters here," he indicated Sam and Dean with one hand, "patched up good and proper."

Dean was beginning to decide that he _really_ didn't like this guy. The other one in blue jeans and white t-shirt wasn't giving much information to who they were and what they were doing there, but _this_ guy was another matter. The way he spoke was mocking, cocky, annoying, and better-than-thou in every possible way. He had a shit-eating grin. And he was so self-confident that Dean could barely stand it.

Basically, Dean would kick his ass at any and every possible opportunity.

"So," Sam said slowly, trying to comprehend everything, "the authorities are totally clued in on there being vampires here? Even Sheriff Forbes?"

"Obviously," the guy stretched out the word annoyingly, and looking at him with 'duh' in his eyes. "If she wasn't clued in, d'you think I would've called her and spoke so plainly about our massacre of all things bad and bloodsucking?"

Sam literally had to bite his tongue. God, this guy was annoying. He just took a deep breath and asked, "How do they know about all this?"

The jackass visibly hesitated before saying smugly, "Later, kid. Well, maybe."

Sam stared at him. The guy called him 'kid'. This guy was twenty-three, maybe, no older, and the other one was a teenager, probably just seventeen! So what the hell was up with that?

By the smirk on the guy's face, he'd obviously seen how confused and pissed and slightly frustrated Sam was, and thought it was pretty damned entertaining.

"Go away," the guy said, making vague gestures with his hands to 'shoo.' "Before you bleed to death, or something less melodramatic."

So they turned around and began walking towards the Impala. Dean was pissed. They were confused as hell and that jackass back there about to torch the house wasn't helping at all.

They finally got to the Impala. Dean turned to the guy following them, who stopped respectfully, waiting.

"Look," Dean said, "I appreciate you saving our asses and all, but…" he shrugged. "I don't trust you."

The guy nodded. "I don't blame you."

"So…" Dean wasn't sure what to say, something along the lines of 'maybe we'll see you around here sometime before we go. But his cell phone rang.

Sam, who had watched the shorter guy, the jackass (as Sam decidedly labeled him before he found out the guy's actual name), go into the house with a red jug of gas he seemed to have pulled out of nowhere, looked up at the sound of his brother's cell phone.

Dean pulled it out of his jacket pocket and glanced at Sam, muttering, "It's Bobby," before putting it to his ear. "Hey, Bobby."

"Hey, Dean. I don't suppose you've ran into some friends of mine yet. I'm thinking they might be where you guys are…"

Dean nodded slowly. "We're in Mystic Falls."

"All right. Have you met a couple of brothers, one that is likely to wear black constantly and is so annoying you want to kill him, the other's quieter and more respectable?"

"Yep, that's sounds like them."

"So you have met them."

"Yeah, we were going into this farmhouse where some vampires had apparently squatted in for a while to kill their asses, and we got some help from said brothers. So, you know them. Who _are_ these guys, Bobby?"

He heard his friend for several years hesitate before saying, "The Salvatores. I've known them for a while, and you can trust them. Scratch that. You can trust Stefan, the quieter one, the younger brother. The older one, the one who always wears all black—you can't trust him. That's Damon, he's very…unreliable."

Sam glanced up to see that this unreliable black clad jackass, Damon, had come out of the farmhouse. He seemed to be listening to the conversation, and now gave a smirk that Sam could see from the Impala. It seemed like an easy response from Bobby's last words. But how…?

"Anyway, you might wanna stick with them for a while. Believe me, you can trust Stefan. He's a good guy. I've known him since I first started hunting myself."

Dean blinked, uncomprehending, staring from Stefan to his brother. "Bobby, he's, like…a teenager. Seventeen, maybe. You couldn't have known him from the time you first started hunting! Or the other one, Damon!"

There was a long pause, and Dean wondered if he'd gotten hung up on. "Bobby?"

"I'm still here. I'm just…surprised, I thought you would've known by now."

Dean shook his head. He was impatient and confused as hell, something he hated. "Known_ what_ by now, Bobby?"

There was a sigh. "Stefan and Damon are a hundred and forty-six years older than they look to be. They were frozen that way in 1864. They're vampires, Dean."

* * *

**I thought that was a good place to end it. Don't worry, I'll update before too long. Bobby will actually come into the story before long, so don't worry. I hope you liked this chapter, I had a fun time writing it. So, tell me what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey! I'm getting a little assistance from my editor, more specifically my genius aunt, on this one, because God knows I need help. This is gonna be a difficult chapter to write.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the Vampire Diaries, Eric Kripke and L.J. Smith do.**

**(I'm changing the Supernatural rules for vampires that vampires do burn out in the sun, like in the Vampire Diaries, just for more conversation on Bobby's part and confusion on Dean's).**

**But I just realized that you probably know that from the chapter where Sam and Dean went into the farmhouse and started wailing on the vamps. Never mind!**

**Wish me luck!**

* * *

**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

Chapter 6

"_They're vampires, Dean."_

Those words weren't registering with Dean. These guys were vampires. A guy that he truly, truly trusted had just told him that. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

"Vampires," Dean repeated.

"Yeah."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, Dean. What's the matter with you?" Bobby demanded over the phone.

"I think I might be going into shock. I'm having a hard time with what you just told me."

"That the Salvatores are vampires?"

"Yeah, that." Dean took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Bobby, that doesn't make any sense. Although Damon's as big a jackass as he is, I _could_ believe that he's evil…" he muttered to himself.

The Winchesters saw Damon roll his eyes from the entrance of the farmhouse (he made it quite clear).

"These two guys, these _Salvatores_, just came into that place and basically saved our asses," Dean continued into the phone. "From vampires. Vampires killing vampires to save the lives of a couple of hunters…"

"That's what's confusing you?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah. _Exactly_ that."

"Well, they're a bit more dignified than any of the vampires you've met so far."

"Yeah, so I've realized. And another thing," Dean said slowly. "How is it that they're standing out in the sun, in the middle of the day, and not burning to crisps?"

"Yeah, there's that. They've got rings that somehow protect them from the sunlight. They'll be able to explain their history better than I can, how they have those."

Dean nodded slowly. "Do a lot of vampires have rings like that?"

"No. A few, maybe. Only ones that know witches that are willing to make them."

"Witches?" Dean repeated. "Well, great, this just keeps getting better and better. Witches. Awesome."

"It'll be less confusing once Stefan explains it. I think you guys should just talk with them for a while. Let Stefan tell their story. Just Stefan. Okay? Don't listen to a word Damon says. He's…very untrustworthy."

"Is he evil?" Dean asked.

Damon had been working his way down the driveway and towards them, casually, probably listening to every word spoken in the phone conversation. His expression was curious, and maybe just the slightest bit pissed. When Dean asked that question, he paused in his step, literally freezing, one foot in the air and one foot on the ground, as though he were about to take another step. He watched Dean, waiting none too patiently.

"…kind of," Bobby answered hesitantly.

"…kind of?" Dean repeated. "Bobby, if you ask if someone's evil, it's a yes or no question. What the hell does 'kind of' mean?"

"It means 'kind of,'" Bobby said impatiently. "Damon's killed people. So has Stefan, but he regrets it, and Damon doesn't. He still does it. Stefan says that he's getting better, though, and he's slowed down. Hopefully…he can get him to stop. Stefan told me that mostly he's drinking human blood from a blood bank now. Stefan thinks that there's still some humanity in his brother."

Dean rolled his eyes. Evil was evil, and if someone was evil, Sam and Dean killed them. That was their job.

Bobby sighed over the phone. "I know that this sounds crazy, someone killing people and waiting to see if they stop. But this is Stefan's brother, and Stefan won't give up on him. What if it was your brother, Dean? What would you do? Kill him on the spot?"

All right, Dean admitted he had a point. If it were him in Stefan's position and Sam in Damon's—and once, it almost might've been—he wouldn't give up on Sammy. Still, though…it had been a hundred and forty-six freaking years. But that was pointless. He understood.

"All right. So, you say we can trust these guys."

"_Stefan._ I said you can trust_ Stefan_. Dean, you've probably figured this out yourself by now, but for the love of all that's holy, do _not_ trust Damon. Just…let him hang around."

Dean nodded. "Okay, if you say so. Hey, Bobby?"

"Yeah?"

"Damon mentioned something happening in New York City a while ago. He said he almost killed you. What the hell…?"

He almost heard Bobby roll his eyes over the phone. "Don't ask."

Dean was surprised at that response. "All right."

"You boys be careful," Bobby said sternly. "Watch your step. You're in Mystic Falls; it's a dangerous place."

Mystic Falls; a dangerous place. A small town filled with innocent civilians—except for the authorities that were aware of the vampires—that just happened to have some vampires. Despite the part about the vampires being there, Dean wasn't seeing how dangerous it could be.

"Okay, Bobby." Dean closed his phone and shoved it in his pocket. So, they were supposed to trust some vampires, one of which was evil and his brother was trying to convince him not to be. He'd thought that the job here would be simple; go in and kick some vampire ass. He had a feeling that he was wrong.

Things were always so complicated these days.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

Dean turned to him, feeling very tired. "How much of that conversation did you here?"

"Your side. Uh, vampires…seriously…you think you're going into shock…and the Salvatores are vampires."

Dean nodded. "Ah."

"Who're the Salvatores?"

"Those guys." Dean pointed from Stefan to Damon. "You caught that these guys were Stefan and Damon. Right?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Well, they're Stefan and Damon _Salvatore_, apparently. They're vampires. Stefan's not evil, Damon's kind of evil. We're not gonna kill them, I guess. We can trust Stefan, but we can't trust Damon. Damon's…'unreliable.' Quote of Bobby, 'Dean, you've probably figured this out yourself by now, but for the love of all that's holy, do _not_ trust Damon.'"

"Mmm. Yeah, he'd be right about that," Damon agreed.

Stefan looked at them both. "Anyone that knows Damon knows he's unreliable."

"I kinda figured that. A couple of more things." Dean turned back to Sam. "They're not frying because they've got these special rings of some kind. Bobby said to stick with them for a while. Apparently, they've got a story to tell. Bobby repeated, several times, not to trust Damon or listen to him."

"Oh, yeah, you should listen to Bobby," Damon agreed. "I'm a backstabber."

"Good to know…" Sam said slowly.

"Anyways, I guess we're sticking with you guys for a while," Dean said, looking between Stefan and Damon.

"Sounds like fun," Damon said agreeably. "Speaking of fun, I've got a house to burn. So, you two can go get patched up at the Salvatore place, and we'll get to know each other later."

"Sounds like fun," Dean muttered.

Damon cocked an eyebrow at Dean and smirked. Suddenly, he was there, there was a rush of wind around them and a blur of movement, and Damon was back at the front of the farmhouse, lighting a match.

"Don't worry," Stefan said as they moved towards the Impala, which now had a black convertible parked behind it. "Damon's not as bad as he seems."

Dean nodded, raising his eyebrows. "I'll have to see that to believe it."

"Same here," Sam added.

* * *

**I'm surprisingly satisfied with this chapter. By the way, gotta ask you something (leave it in a review, since I've already got a poll going): should Sam and Dean find out what happened in New York City?**

**Anyways, hope you liked this one!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, I'm sorry I haven't been updating much! I've had writer's block! I'm sorry! Thanks to all and any of you who are sticking with me and still reading this through all the insanity! I'm at my grandma's place…and she doesn't have internet. Grr…**

**But I'm going to have ice cream soon, so things are looking up!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the Vampire Diaries, Eric Kripke and L.J. Smith do.**

**I have no idea where I'm going with this, by the way. I'll just see where these fingers (who have a mind of their own, no lie) take the story!**

**Enjoy it, whatever it turns out to be!**

**P.S. Even though I don't respond to all of my reviews, I do read them, and they make me happy! Don't feel left out…just blame it on me! :) Or not. I don't mind either way!**

* * *

**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

**Chapter 7**

About forty-five minutes later, Sam and Dean were patched up, sitting at two of the chairs on the same side of the dining room table. None of the cuts were very deep, and no stitches were needed (thank God), but they stung like a bitch after the peroxide was poured onto them. The bruises they had would suck for a while too. But, Sam admitted to himself, it could be worse. Vampires really did suck. The sons of bitches were strong.

There had been an awkward moment during the actual patching up part. Stefan's face had…changed. The purple veins were visible beneath his eyes, and his actual eyes had seemed to literally tighten, had taken on a red tint to them.

He'd turned away hastily. "I'm sorry," he'd muttered.

"No," Dean had said quickly. "Don't apologize. For God's sake, get out of here. Don't torture yourself."

"I think I will."

Stefan had left in a blur of vampire speed.

Dean had leaned towards Sam and added quietly, "And don't _kill us_."

"Yeah," Sam had agreed.

Sam was just as confused as Dean seemed to be. Bobby had asked them to trust _vampires_? According to Dean, Bobby had seemed to trust these guys—or vampires—pretty well, especially Stefan. But no matter how much anyone trusted these vamps, it was all still confusing as hell. Sam couldn't even remember when things had been simple and hadn't had anything to do with the Apocalypse.

Almost four years ago, they hadn't even known that vampires had existed. Then they'd run into them once every year or two and had had to kill them. They'd never been told to trust vampires. Lenore's group—coven, or whatever—had been better than any other vamps they'd ever met, but that hadn't meant that they'd had to trust them. And Sam wondered exactly how the hell Bobby had come to know and trust the Salvatores.

Or, as Bobby had apparently said, to trust _Stefan_. Not the other one, the annoying one, Damon. Sam was pretty sure he wouldn't have trusted him anyways, and Dean didn't seem like he would've either.

Dean sighed. "This is weird as hell."

"I know."

"Even for us."

"Yeah."

"Why the hell are we even here?"

"I don't know, man! You didn't ask Bobby?"

"He told me that Stefan would be able to explain everything better than he could."

Sam sighed. "Well—did he explain how Stefan and Damon were there, standing out in the sun, and not burning up?"

"Yeah," Dean said, annoyed. "He wasn't very clear about that, either—something about rings…but he said that Stefan would be able to explain that better, too. Damn it, I hate not knowing things."

"I'm right there with you."

There were a few moments of quiet.

"That Damon guy is an _asshole_," Sam said, feeling annoyed as well.

"Yeah, he is. God, he wouldn't even have to say anything, it's just that _look_ he has."

Sam nodded in agreement. "When he does say something, though, that confirms your suspicions about it."

"Yeah," Dean agreed quietly, absently. "But I guess if Bobby says we should trust them…we'll trust them."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. You can't trust many people these days; I guess you have to trust who you can."

Dean nodded, and looked towards the door. "Speaking of trust, you think we can trust Stefan to come back in here?"

"Think so," Sam replied. "We've taken care of everything, and no blood is exposed."

Dean nodded. He looked at the door again. "Any idea where he went?"

"Uh…"

The door opened and Stefan stepped inside.

"I didn't go far," he told them. "Just far away enough that I wouldn't…"

Sam nodded. "Right."

Stefan walked further inside at a human pace, up to the table. "Are you guys all right?"

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Not much damage was done."

"Good."

"So, Stefan, how do you work this vampire thing out without killing people?" Sam asked. "We've met other vampires that had different eating habits, like you, but I don't know if you do it the same way…"

"To deal with 'this vampire thing,' I go into the woods and feed from animals," he informed them. "Usually I go as deep into the woods as I can, so no one finds the carcasses. It's small animals, usually, like rabbits and squirrels, and sometimes birds. If I can, though, I take blood from deer. I try not to kill them…but it usually doesn't work that way," he said quietly, almost as though he was ashamed of that.

So, a vampire that pitied the animals that he took blood from so he wouldn't hurt humans. Holy crap, dude. One look at his brother told Sam that Dean was thinking the same thing.

"Huh," Sam said quietly.

They looked up to see the front door to the place get opened. A beautiful teenage girl stepped awkwardly inside, noticing everyone that stared at her. She was tall, and slender, with pale olive skin, long, straight, rich brown hair, and warm brown eyes. She dressed like an average teenager, in tennis shoes, blue skinny jeans, and a red shirt with a white tank top underneath, and a leather jacket over that. She carried a bag over her shoulder.

"Hey," she said slowly, looking from Dean to Sam to Stefan. "What's going on?"

"We're just talking with Stefan here," Dean said. "He's an old friend. We're catching up. And I'm sorry, I'm afraid we haven't met."

She just stared at him for a few long moments. Then she said, "Great, another Damon." And she walked to Stefan's side.

Sam tried not to laugh at Dean's mouth dropping open. "I—what—that doesn't—that's not—I—" He looked at Sam, mouth still hanging open, and then at the girl. "I am nothing like that asshole!"

She shrugged. "Maybe not. First impressions mean a lot, I guess."

Dean closed his mouth and shook his head. "…nothing like that asshole. I can't believe it…" he muttered.

The girl rolled her eyes. "Good God, get over it."

Dean rolled his eyes, too.

She turned to Stefan. "Who are these guys?" she asked curiously.

"This is Sam and Dean Winchester. They're friends of a friend, we're about to get to know each other. They, uh, they know about Damon and I being vampires. They're hunters, actually. They hunt demons, werewolves, vampires, witches…"

"But just the bad ones," Sam said quickly. The girl nodded.

"Sam, Dean, this is Elena, my girlfriend."

"His human girlfriend," Elena piped up.

Dean nodded thoughtfully. "It's nice to meet you…I think. By the way, first impressions mean _nothing_. Meaning to say that I am _nothing_ like Damon Salvatore."

"Yeah, probably not," Elena agreed. "No one can be quite as annoying as he is."

"Hello, all!" Damon announced himself as he came inside. "It feels so good to burn something! I haven't done it in a while."

"Speak of the devil," Elena murmured.

"Elena," Damon called, a cocky grin coming across his face. He moved at vampire speed to stand slightly behind and between the chairs Sam and Dean sat at, a hand on the tops of the backs of both chairs. "Well, this is an unexpected—but warmly welcomed—surprise."

"Wish I could say the same," Elena replied.

Damon smiled at her. "So, Elena, what gives us the opportunity to enjoy your company?"

Elena frowned. "What, a girl can't come to visit her boyfriend—and slightly mentally ill brother—without a reason?"

"Oh, no, we love you here." Damon smiled at her.

_Well, he sure as hell takes insults well,_ Sam thought.

"Oh, I get them a lot," Damon said, turning around to face the Winchesters. "You know, you get so many insults, you learn to get used to them. You can't even _imagine_ the things I've been called when women wake up in bed next to me."

"What?" Dean asked, totally clueless of the situation.

"Did you just—" Sam stared at Damon, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. "Did you just read my mind?"

"I might've clued in a minute," Damon replied easily, shrugging. "I didn't exactly read your mind; I just listened in on your subconscious for a second."

Sam looked at Dean, who was staring at him as though he was thinking _'What the hell?'_

"I didn't know vampires could do that," he said aloud.

"Well, we can't, under some circumstances," Damon said. "You've got to be strong enough. Take my brother over there." He gestured to Stefan with one hand. "He wouldn't be able to. He drinks animal blood, which doesn't keep him strong enough for things like that. I drink human blood. Whether it's fresh or—from a blood bank." He rolled his eyes, probably at the latter. "Anywho, if the human has vervain on or in them, then it's impossible to get into their subconscious…unless that person's weak-willed. Then a vampire can get into their mind, whether they're wearing vervain or not."

"Vervain?" Sam repeated, confused.

Damon raised his eyebrows, looking between the two Winchesters. "Hold on a minute here. You're hunters, and you don't know what _vervain_ is?"

"No…" Dean said slowly.

Damon snorted. "Wow. I'm surprised you're still going."

"What does that mean?" Dean demanded.

"And you don't even know what vampires can do that are prevented by vervain. Holy crap."

Sam was pissed. He didn't know why Bobby wanted them to trust these guys—they were awfully shifty—and Damon was a huge asshole, and he didn't know _what_ the hell vervain is.

"Yeah. Dude, we're totally confused," Dean said impatiently. "What the hell do you mean, 'you're surprised we're still going?'"

Damon, eyebrows in his hair, looked at the floor and off to the side, as though he really didn't want to explain.

"Care to elaborate?" Sam asked.

"Not really," Damon replied bluntly.

"Hello Dean, hello Sam."

They all looked to the center of the room, where the familiar voice—familiar to Sam and Dean, anyway—came from. The angel Castiel stood in that inhumanly, unnaturally still way that angels do, with Bobby in his wheelchair next to him.

"Bobby?" Stefan asked, sounding shocked.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked, surprised and relieved and almost pissed at the same time (he was pissed from all the confusion and the asshole that was known as Damon Salvatore and all of these new people).

Bobby seemed to reflect all of what Sam felt—surprise, relief, and being pissed—in his expression. "Coming to make sure that you idjits haven't killed each other yet! What else?"

* * *

**Ha-ha, there's Bobby! And Cas! He wasn't going to be there originally, I just needed a way for Bobby to get to the Salvatore place, and maybe, just maybe, he'll stick around! Who thinks he should?**

**Oh, and I don't know if I described Stefan's eyes quite right; I haven't seen the Vampire Diaries in a while (I keep forgetting to watch reruns on Thursday night: what is **_**wrong**_** with me?).**

**By the way; if some of you don't understand how Damon could 'listen in on Sam's subconscious,' you haven't read the books. They could do that sometimes, if they wanted to, along with the compulsion. Which I didn't have Damon mention; I've got a few ideas going with that! ;) Hmm, I'm feeling like a bad girl…**

**Again: I'm sorry for not updating, people! Really, really sorry! I've just been messed up lately. But, I was in a writing mood tonight. So, I hope you like this! I'm satisfied with it!**

**By the way (one last side note, you don't have to read it if you don't wanna, but I'd appreciate it if you do): not many people have voted on my poll. So, if you wanna vote, do it now, because I'm about to close it!**

**I'm sorry about all these notes; I just wanna get everything out! I swear, the A/N's in this story takes up, like, half of it! There's just so much to say!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey! I'm kind of upset with myself for not giving a single thought towards this story, since I've been giving my attention to my new story. But hey, I'm getting the show on the road with it right now!**

**Ah…oh, yes, the disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, it belongs to Eric Kripke.**

**So…I have no idea what's gonna happen with this chapter. But I hope you enjoy where it takes me!**

* * *

**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

Chapter 8

Bobby and Cas's sudden appearances left the room in silent surprise.

Bobby was the first to speak by saying, "And you haven't yet, thank God."

"Bobby," Dean said in mock surprise, "did you doubt us?"

"Every minute since I called," Bobby muttered, but Dean continued.

"You said that these vamps were friends of yours and that you trusted them, so of course we didn't kill them! No matter how much I wanted to," Dean added in a mutter, glancing at Damon.

Damon sighed, and looked around at the people in the room as a whole. "Guys, you don't have to tell me how much you love my company, I already know!"

He sounded damn well like a freaking celebrity that was trying to be patient with his swarming fans, too.

"Bobby," Dean said, turning to look at the man in question, a slightly disgusted expression on this face. "You said that you're friends with this guy?"

"Uh, with his brother," Bobby corrected. "Damon just kinda hung around."

"Um, okay, either way, the question remains the same: how do you put up with him?" he asked, pointing at Damon, as though he needed to.

"'Cause I'm lovable," Damon chimed in before Bobby could answer.

Elena stared at him, along with everyone else, human or not, in the room. "Yeah, sure you are," she agreed skeptically.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Because Stefan won't let me stake him, that's why. Vampires are strong sons of bitches, and I don't want to waste the energy trying to kill his brother."

Sam nodded. "That's a good reason," he said agreeably.

Damon moved from his place standing behind Sam and Dean's chairs, a hand resting on the back of each, and moved slightly away from the general crowd, showing the outsider part of being a vampire. "Who's this guy?" he asked, nodding at Castiel, who had remained standing stock still beside Bobby.

"Uh, that's Castiel…he's an angel," Sam explained lamely.

Damon's eyebrows shot up. "An angel."

"Yeah."

Damon shook his head, eyebrows still raised. "Am I missing something here?"

"Nope. He's an actual angel, used to work for God and everything," Dean piped up.

"Oh, _used_ to, eh?" Damon grinned at Cas. "Well, at least you're a renegade angel, I can give you that."

"I'm not proud of…turning my back on my family," Castiel stated.

Damon shrugged. "Hey. Family sucks. There's really nothing you can do about it."

Elena cocked an eyebrow at Damon. "'Family sucks'?"

"I know, bad joke, don't remind me."

Dean had to admit, watching the conversations between these vampires (and one human—how she got mixed up in it, Dean had to wonder) was entertaining. Damon, as annoying as he was, was of course the center of it all.

"So," Damon said, "you're a renegade angel. What's an angel doing down here on God's green earth?"

"The Apocalypse is abound," Cas answered. "Lucifer has risen, and other angels, my brothers, are rebelling and being killed. The only hope humanity has now is Sam and Dean. If anyone will save the world, it will be them. In the meantime, they mustn't say yes to Michael or Lucifer, the two most powerful archangels ever created that wish to use the Winchesters as human vessels. Neither side, not heaven and definitely not hell, is on the side of humanity. Only humans can save themselves."

"The Apocalypse?" Stefan repeated, shocked.

"As in, the end of the world?" Elena asked, brown eyes wide.

"That would be the one," Bobby said.

"And the only hope the world has is these two?" Damon questioned, pointing between Sam and Dean.

"Yes," Cas answered.

Damon looked between them both speculatively. Finally, he said, "The world's screwed. I need a drink." He got up, and disappeared around a corner.

Sam, Dean, Bobby, Cas, Stefan and Elena were left staring after to them in silence.

"Is he always like this?" Dean asked, being the first one to speak.

"Oh, no, this one of his good days," Stefan told them.

"Really," Sam replied, not thrilled.

"Yeah," the younger Salvatore replied grudgingly.

"Oh, so what are his bad days like?" Dean asked.

"On his bad days, he's drunk, pissed, cocky and hungry," Elena answered. "Never a good combination, considering exactly _what _Damon's hungry for."

Dean nodded. "He sounds like a cheerful, happy kinda guy."

"Oh, yeah. Definitely," Elena said.

"I do agree with what he said, though," Dean said thoughtfully. "If it's up to us, the world's not probably getting anywhere."

Cas frowned, looking like he wanted to say something but remaining silent. Dean was grateful for that.

Damon returned to the room, a glass of some amber liquid in one hand and a bottle that probably contained that liquid in the other. He was just downing the liquid in the glass as he approached the table.

"I'm back," he replied. "After I drink about oh, I'd say…eight-tenths of this bottle, I'll be much more agreeable. Maybe."

"Good to know," Sam said.

"Then again, it might take more," Damon added musingly, almost as though to himself. "Takes a lot to get a vampire drunk, you know…but I've done it before, and I'll do it again." He got to pouring another glass.

"Okay, since you're about to become agreeable, I've got a question to ask you and you too, Bobby. It's been bugging me," Dean said.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Oh, God, do I even want to know?"

Damon shrugged, drinking out of his glass before saying, "Let the boy speak."

Dean knew he was getting himself into a load of trouble asking this, but he would ask it anyway. "What happened between you two in New York City?""

Damon slowly put his bottle and glass down, a slight smirk on his face. Bobby looked reluctant.

"Uh, well, about that…"

"Might as well tell him, Bobby. _I _think it's a hell of a story, if I do say so myself. Not a lot of plots, twists and turns, but…" Damon shrugged.

Bobby sighed. "All right, shoot."

Damon nodded. "New York City, October twenty-sixth. Stefan had gone there for a while, and I, being the unrelentingly annoying bother I am, followed him. We'd heard some things that sounded like vampire problems there; even in a city that big, you can still pick out the differences between supernatural deaths and average, every day New York City kidnappings and murders. Anyway, Stef and I were going to take care of it—he talked me into it eventually—but when we got there we realized, there was a vampire hunter already there! And it was this man right here," Damon said, nodding at Bobby, "at the age of about thirty. He was doing some mad vampire slaughtering, not too bad at it either. So we stood by, seeing what was happening. He got all the vampires taken care of. And I was kinda glad that we didn't have to deal with that ourselves, but, well…" he shrugged. "I was hungry. So, I attacked. Sank my teeth into his neck, got some blood. But Stefan stopped me; this guy was a friend of his, apparently. And I had nearly killed him. It was kind of more of a 'oops, sorry, I didn't mean to almost kill him, I didn't know he was a friend of yours' than 'oops, sorry, I didn't mean to almost kill him, I didn't know he was human.'"

"And I still got the scar from him biting me," Bobby grumbled. "Getting bit by a vampire hurts like hell, and having a reminder of it sucks. No pun intended."

"Wow," Sam said, glancing between Bobby and Damon. "Awkward."

"Awkward indeed," Damon agreed. Then he glanced at Bobby. "Have you forgiven me yet?"

"No," Bobby replied.

Damon shrugged, unconcerned. "Eh, you'll get there."

**I'm actually surprisingly satisfied with this chapter! I'm happy with myself! Let me know what you think!**

**TTFN!**


	9. Chapter 9

**I know it's been a while since I published a new chapter on this story, and I'm sorry! My muse has been going in, like, twelve different directions. But she's back for this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, that belongs to Eric Kripke. I don't own the Vampire Diaries either, that belongs to L.J. Smith.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

Chapter 9

Dean was not happy about this situation. That much was clear.

The decision was made that Sam, Dean and Bobby were going to be sticking with the Salvatores for a while. Therefore, precautions had to be made. There were already lines of salt on the window sills of every window in the house and a Devil's Trap under the rug in front of the front doors, due to Bobby's knowledge and Damon's not wanting to have demons invading his house. But there were other things to set up defenses against; angels. So Sam and Dean set up protective sigils on the walls (Bobby did them on the first floor, because that was all that he could do). The sigils had to be done in human blood, so Stefan and Damon were kinda out for the count—and they weren't about to ask Elena to make sigils on the walls in her own blood.

It had taken quite of a lot of convincing on Bobby's part to get Dean to agree to rooming with the Salvatore vampires. He didn't trust them; he barely even knew them. He only agreed to interact with the vampires at all because Bobby trusted them. He knew for sure that he'd be keeping a sharpened stake near his person at all times, awake or asleep.

Sam really didn't mind near as much as Dean did. Stefan was a really cool guy—or, well, vampire. Damon was a pain in the ass, and maybe kind of evil…but Sam could find it in himself to put up with the guy, if Stefan could. Damon kind of reminded Sam of Ruby, especially her attitude the year before Dean died…except that Damon was darker. Sam wasn't sure how that was possible, but…

He sat across from the vampire right then. They were at the table that was in the front room of the place that served as a kind of living room. Sam was on his laptop, looking up some of the history of the town, to see if there were any vampire attacks that preceded these ones.

He'd just started, just sat down. And then Damon had just come along and sat down across from him without saying a word. He now sat back, stance casual, with his right foot thrown up to rest on his left knee. His hands were loosely clasped in front of him, and he glanced around distractedly. He looked bored as hell.

Sam decided he wasn't even gonna ask why he'd chosen to sit _there_ of all places.

"Whatcha doing, Sammy?" Damon asked vaguely.

"Uh…researching," Sam answered, feeling his furrowed eyebrows. _What the hell?_

"Researching? Researching what?" Still with the bored tone.

_Go away, Damon, for God's sake._ "Any vampire attacks before this one. Some of the history of the town."

Damon snorted, the bored pretense breaking. "History? Sounds boring."

Sam shrugged, not taking his eyes off of the screen. "That's the job."

Damon shrugged too, which Sam only saw in his peripheral vision. He _did_ see pretty clearly when his laptop was slammed shut. He looked up from the hand that had done the act to see Damon switching from his slouched position to sitting up more, folding his hands on the table.

Sam felt pissed and bet that he looked that way too. He looked at Damon, thinking, _Dude, what the hell?_

Damon looked amused. "You're researching the history of this town when there's someone sitting right in front of you that's lived through it? Come on, dude, seriously?"

Sam rolled his eyes, even though he felt intrigue when Damon stated it that way. "All right. You wanna tell me of your wisdom, Damon Salvatore?"

"Only if the alternative is you spending time reading a bunch of crap on the internet about the history of Mystic Falls and getting it all wrong," Damon replied.

Sam sighed. "Do you have something against technology?"

"Oh, hell, no! Just against idiots that try to recount something that happened, and end up making stuff up and explaining it wrong."

Sam rolled his eyes. "All right, fine. If you're such a genius, tell me what happened."

Damon sighed. "I think this will sound long and boring. But, hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. Vampires started showing up right after I got back from the war."

Sam felt his eyes widen. "You fought in the Civil War?"

"For a while. Left it, though; I hated it. Couldn't stand it there. It was hell. It pissed our dad off when I came back; that was awesome." Damon grinned. "Anyway, first one I met? Katherine. I'll tell you a thing or two about Katherine. She was beautiful, sexy, and fun. She was also manipulative, demanding, conceited, and a lying bitch. Oh, and one more thing; Elena Gilbert could be her doppelganger."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "They look alike."

"_Dead ringers_."

Sam looked away. "Wow."

"Yeah."

"…that sounds like it could be tense."

"It's _very_ tense," Damn agreed.

"…kind of depends on exactly how you guys know her. From the way you described her, I'm guessing it wasn't exactly a friendly one…"

"It was on and off screwing, mostly. With me _and_ my brother." At Sam's expression, Damon smirked. "Yeah, Katherine got around."

"Sounds like it."

"Anywho, she showed up, along with a few friends of hers, including some vampires and a certain witch named Emily Bennett. Well, the vampires made more vampires, and the number got a _little_ too copious, and their presence became conspicuous. So the vampire hunters of the town, including Giuseppe Salvatore, our father, and Jonathan Gilbert, Elena's great-great-to whatever extent-grandfather, started getting stake-happy. They locked the twenty-seven vampires in a church and set the place on fire. Stefan and I were trying to devise a plan to rescue Katherine. Well, we came up with one. We even got as far as getting her out of captivity. But we were caught." Damon grimaced. "And we were shot."

"You were _shot_?"

"Yep."

"By the vampire hunters, right?"

"Right."

"But…wasn't yours and Stefan's father one of those hunters?"

"I thought I made that quite clear," Damon scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"And he just…_let_ the others kill you?"

Damon snorted.

Sam couldn't comprehend what was funny about that. "…what?"

"He pulled the trigger himself, Sammy. Twice. He said to my little brother, 'You and your brother were dead to me the moment you sided with the vampires.' I wasn't there, of course. But my brother drained him." Damon smiled brightly. "That was pretty awesome. I never liked that man, anyhow. I'm glad Stefan killed him."

There was silence, during which Sam was thinking _Uh, holy shit…_

"Well, we survived the gunshot wounds to our hearts because we didn't technically survive. Miss Katherine Pierce had given both me and Stefan vampire blood. When we got shot, that vampire blood became active. And, well…" he gestured to himself. "Here you go."

Sam's eyes were wider than they had been before. "Thought _we _had family drama…" he mumbled.

Damon got a very matter-of-fact expression and held up a finger. "But that's not all the history. Katherine's witch friend, Emily, did a spell on the tomb. The vampires would be saved. They'd starve practically to death—and I say practically because vampires can't starve to death—until the next comet, which was not too long ago, but they'd be…preserved, in a way. Then the crystal Emily kept could be used to release the vampires from the tomb." He smiled bitterly. "Let's just say that it didn't work out so well. So Emily's descendant, Bonnie Bennett, _also_ a witch, and her grandmother did a little spell to open up the tomb. It opened. I went in, tried to find Katherine. The bitch wasn't there. But in that process, I kinda sorta accidentally let out the other twenty-six very vengeful vampires."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "I'd call that a hell of an accident."

Damon ducked his head. "Yeah. Oops on my part." He sighed. "Anyway, they're out on the town. They've got a vampire that's kind of keeping an eye on them, name of Pearl. The only thing is…Pearl's an idiot. She wants things to be back to the way they were in 1864, when vampires practically owned the town. You know, I tried to tell her, 'Uh, chick, it's not 1864 anymore!' But does she listen to me? No! So the vamps from the tomb are causing us problems."

Sam paused. "The vampires that we killed in that farmhouse earlier…were they from the tomb?"

"As far as I know, yeah. I don't think there are anymore vamps coming into town. If there are new vamps…ugh. Nah, never mind, I don't want to even think about it. Too many headaches, too much trouble. I don't want to think of the possibility that we have yet another thing to deal with."

Sam frowned. "What happened to Katherine?"

Damon cocked an eyebrow. "Is that a part of history? I think not."

Sam shrugged. "It's a part of your history. I just wanna know, okay? If you don't want to tell me, fine, don't tell me."

Damon sighed, got up, walked over to an end table with a bottle and a glass on it. He poured some of the liquid from the bottle into the glass and drank about half of it in one gulp.

"As it turns out, Katherine put the guard to the church under her spell and promised to turn him into a vampire, which is _so_ like her. Then she took off."

Sam frowned. "Maybe she's looking for you…"

"She isn't. She knows where I am, she doesn't care." Damon finished off his glass and started filling it again.

"You loved her, didn't you?"

Damon didn't even skip a beat. "Excuse me?"

Sam sighed. "You were in love with her. I can tell by the way you talk about her. Even when you called her a lying bitch…you sounded fond."

Damon shrugged. "I don't know, maybe lying bitches turn me on?"

"No, not just turn you on." Sam was about 99.9% sure about what he was talking about.

Damon shrugged. "Whether I loved her a hundred and forty-six years ago doesn't matter. Ding-dong, the bitch might as well be dead. I don't care whether she comes or goes. If she does come, I'll probably kill her, but I won't care then either."

"Uh, I doubt that."

Damon looked up, and when he and Sam met eyes he swore on the life of everyone he knew and cared about that his eyes flashed dangerously, despite the pleasant smile he put on.

"Wanna bet, Sammy?"

Damon looked pretty insane right now. The fires of hell burned behind his eyes and yet he still kept that pleasant smile on.

Sam had to drop his eyes. "Are you ever going to stop calling me 'Sammy'?"

"Nope...Sammy." Damon still smiled, but his eyes were calmer now.

"Right," Sam muttered. He was just glad that the insane look in Damon's eyes was now gone.

Damon stretched and set the bottle and glass on the table. He moved to walk behind Sam, but suddenly a hand fell on Sam's shoulder. "Oh, and Sammy?"

Sam waited.

Damon leaned down a little and said quietly, "The Apocalypse? It really isn't your fault, you know."

Before Sam could even reply, the hand had disappeared from his shoulder and Damon had zipped up the stairs with inhuman speed.

* * *

**Ooh, that was tense…some parts of it, anyway. I don't remember what Damon called Katherine to describe her to Elena, so I made up my own terms. "Lying bitch" really stuck out at me. I liked it…or, you know, it could work, at least. Tell me what you think!**


	10. Chapter 10

Okay, I know I write Damon a lot, but that's because I love him and he rocks so much. This one is to include the other parties, as well as Sam and Damon.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, that belongs to Eric Kripke. And I don't own the Vampire Diaries either, that belongs to L.J. Smith.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

Chapter 10

It couldn't be said that Dean wasn't at least making an effort to be patient.

Stefan was informing Bobby of what was happening lately with the vampires in Mystic Falls, and they were both making an effort to explain some of the history about the place. Dean caught a few things here and there, not exactly paying attention (he wasn't exactly a history type of guy, unless it was the mythology on how to kill something evil). The story sounded interesting, but he just couldn't make himself full-on listen. Sometimes he would glance at Elena, who sat next to Stefan. She was very, very attractive, and kind of reserved. She wasn't listening raptly to Stefan's every word either, but it seemed as though she'd heard the story before. She was an interesting girl…

…and Dean supposed that he could let her comparing him to Damon Salvatore go.

"—the vampires from the tomb have been wreaking havoc in Mystic Falls. Damon, Elena and I have been trying to keep things under control around here."

"Hey." Dean sat up suddenly. "Those vampires in the farmhouse, the ones that we killed—were they from the tomb?"

Stefan nodded. "Yes."

Dean vaguely acknowledged that Stefan was a very stoic guy, but he wasn't too bad…more like a hunter, actually: reserved, smart, cautious. He liked the vampire.

His brother…not so much.

"So, what, they're not all hanging around together?"

Stefan frowned. "Um…some of them are. The majority stick together, but some of them are rebels and don't want to go with Pearl's plan. They want revenge, the only thing Pearl _doesn't _want."

Dean bit his lip, trying to recount was Stefan had said earlier. "Pearl's the oldest, right?"

"Yes."

"And…she was trapped in the tomb too?"

The slightly impatient but calm look on Stefan's face told Dean that he'd already mentioned that during one of the times that he'd zoned out.

"Yes." His voice was surprisingly very patient.

Yeah, Dean definitely liked Stefan better than Damon.

Speaking of…

"Hey, Stefan." Dean sat forward. "What's Damon's deal, anyway?"

Stefan snorted quietly. "I wish I knew."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Damon's kinda hard to figure out," Bobby said from where he sat in his wheelchair beside the chair that Dean was in.

Elena half-grinned, but she looked slightly bitter. "Yeah, you can say that again."

"Where Damon's loyalties lie is…confusing. He helps us…quite a bit, actually. And yet, he would kill the first human that got in his way. He used to kill humans frequently, for their blood. Now he doesn't do that. Mostly he gets his blood from blood banks. Sometimes, he compels girls into knowing that he's a vampire and being perfectly okay with it. Then he would occasionally drink their blood, never taking enough to hurt them. I don't like that method…" Stefan chewed his lip. "But at least he's not really hurting anyone."

"…I don't suppose I really need to ask what he did with those girls when he wasn't using them as human snack bars," Dean assumed.

Elena glanced at him. "I wouldn't think so."

"Damon goes over the top with his methods of taking care of things," Stefan added.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, he seemed like that kind of guy. By the way…is he always so much of an asshole?"

"Yes," three voices all said in unison, from all around him.

"You'll get used to it," Elena sighed. "He bugs the hell out of you, but that's just Damon. Just don't let him get to you."

"I don't plan on it."

"Dean, honestly, not letting him get to you isn't as easy as it sounds," Elena said seriously. "He tends to know more than you expect…and more than you want him to know. He's a son of a bitch. He knows exactly what subject to touch on and comment about to make you want to stake him…in the most painful way possible."

"Oh, don't worry about that…I already want to," Dean assured her with a smile.

She shrugged. "Well, yeah, but that's beside the point. He's annoying, we all know that. But he can really get to you if he wants to. And actually…that seems to mean that he likes you. If he doesn't like you, he just kills you."

"Oh. Good to know that I can now distinguish the difference." Dean didn't let his surprise show in his voice, not missing a beat.

"Yeah, Damon's pretty quick to let you know his opinion of you. And if snaps your neck…that pretty much means he doesn't give a damn about you and just wants you gone. Means you're expendable to him."

"And if he hates you…?" Dean waited.

"Then he kills you painfully and with passion."

"Ah." Dean stood up. "Well, I don't trust the guy either way. So Stefan, I know he's your brother and all, but if he does something that crosses the line, or if he threatens my brother, I'll stake him then and there."

Stefan nodded. "Understood."

"Just…" Elena hesitated. Dean, Stefan and Bobby looked at her.

"…make your line a little farther away with Damon," she finished. "He does some really out-there things…some things that aren't forgivable…but he really isn't evil."

"Mm," Dean grunted vaguely.

Elena shook her head. "You'll get it once you hang around Damon a little more."

"But boy, if I were you…" Dean turned towards Bobby, waiting to see what his old and trusted friend had to say. "I'd try not to hang around Damon and not understand him as well as possible. He's more trouble than anyone needs."

"But I'm worth it." They turned just in time to see Damon sticking his head in the doorway, grinning, before he disappeared. Elena rolled her eyes.

Dean was left staring in the doorway where the eldest vampire had just been moments ago. "Do random things like that happen often with that guy around?"

"Yes," Elena, Stefan and Bobby replied in unison.

"And he's the strongest out of all your little gang, so you want to keep him around."

"Right," Stefan said, nodding.

Dean nodded at that and then started shaking his head disbelievingly. "This town's whacked."

"Tell us about it," Elena agreed grimly.

The four—one a hundred and sixty-two year old vampire, one a young, beautiful human girl that knows more than she should, one a grizzled, experienced, smart demon hunter, and one a stupid, douchebag demon hunter that is supposed to be the vessel for an archangel and/or save the world—exited the room, three of them standing up to do so and the other rolling his wheelchair out.

They found Sam in the front room, standing in front of a large bookshelf packed with books that were probably covered in dust. He went through them for a few moments before taking once and pulling it out, opening it and looking inside with interest.

"Having fun, geekboy?" Dean asked as they made their way towards him.

Sam didn't even look up at the jibe—he was too immersed in the book in his hand. He didn't even reply. Dean rolled his eyes, turning towards the others.

"For him, this is like a kid finding the presents under the tree on Christmas morning," he explained. Both seventeen-year-olds—one of them only under pretenses of such—nodded understandingly.

"Stefan gets that way," Elena told Dean. Stefan turned and looked at her, confused and slightly surprised. She moved closer to him and patted his shoulder. "I just say that because you're smart, Stefan."

Stefan raised his eyebrows slightly, but didn't say anything more.

Throughout this time, Sam's been paying rapt attention to this book.

Stefan walked up to him and looked over his shoulder…and how he managed to get a look over his brother's massive shoulder, Dean had no idea.

"That's my father's journal," Stefan said after a few moments of reading silently. "Giuseppe Salvatore."

"He describes through the days as the townspeople hunt the vampires, discover that vervain hurts them, and finds more bodies drained of blood. They staked the bodies to be sure that they didn't come back as a vampire. Sounds like something out of Dracula."

"It wasn't," Stefan assured him. "It was much different. Things in the town were different. It was tense, no one was sure who to trust."

"He writes about finding them finally…and discovering the Pearl was one of them. He trusted Pearl," Sam said, reading from the book.

Dean leaned towards Elena and murmured, "I've never been good with geek-to-geek bonding."

"Me neither," she whispered back.

* * *

Somehow, eventually, Dean and Elena wandered from the group. They walked aimlessly throughout the Salvatore house…and Dean wondered when he would ever find a dead end.

"This place is frigging huge."

"I know," Elena agreed. "The Salvatores have a lot of money. Built up from over the years, I'm guessing."

They walked silently for a while, comfortable with each other. Dean didn't know Elena very well—hell, even less than he knew Stefan and Damon—but somehow, she was an easier person to be around. There was less tension, he guessed, than a hunter hanging around with a human than with a vampire. Less chance of trying to kill each other, he supposed.

"How'd you get into all this?" Dean asked as they made their way up yet another staircase.

She laughed a little. "By living in this town."

Dean smirked, nodded and shrugged. Yeah, it seemed easy enough to get into the supernatural loop in Mystic Falls, Virginia.

"No, uh…Stefan's a student at the high school, like me," Elena told him. "The first day this year, I saw him, and…I don't know what it was about him, but I could tell there was just something about him that was…different. And by being close enough, I ended up with a vampire boyfriend and his older, jackass-like, vampire brother, as well as some vampires that are intent on killing the townspeople and are dangerous to have around."

Dean nodded. That sounded like it pretty much summed it up. He had to know something, though. "So, uh…do you regret it?"

Elena looked at him.

Dean continued, "You know, having the vampire boyfriend, all the problems, nearly getting killed on more than one occasion?"

Elena looked down and laughed a little. "Actually…it might sound weird, but I don't."

Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded. "That does sound weird."

Elena nodded. "Yeah. I really can't explain it. I love Stefan, and…I guess that the nearly getting killed and the jackass-like older brother are worth it."

Dean nodded again at that, not really able to do much else.

"So, uh, what's you and your brother's deals?" Elena asked him as they walked.

Dean shrugged. "It's the Apocalypse. You know…Lucifer's out and about."

"Lucifer," Elena repeated. "As in, the devil?"

"As in the devil."

Elena frowned thoughtfully. "Well, he was somewhere else, before, right? In Hell?"

Dean looked at her.

"I honestly don't know much about this," she said quickly. "I'm just taking a stab at it."

Dean nodded and shrugged. They seemed to be in the same place. "Yeah, he was in Hell."

Elena nodded as they walked. "How'd he get out?" she asked, looking up at Dean.

Dean paused and chewed his lip as he thought about the way to answer. "There was a misunderstanding."

She frowned up at him.

"It was…it was my brother. He killed this demon, Lilith, who wanted to get the Apocalypse going. He was trying to stop her, but…it didn't work out that way. Apparently, the last thing that needed to happen for the Apocalypse to happen—we called them seals—was Lilith's death. She knew it, and let my brother kill her."

"So…Sam accidentally let the devil out," Elena surmised.

Dean nodded, not looking at her.

"Huh," she said quietly as they continued to walk. "That must be hard to live with."

Dean nodded. Truthfully, he had no idea, but he had no doubt that she was right. "And not only that, but a couple of archangels want to use Sam and I as meat suits, so they can use their powers and end the world."

Elena looked up at him. "And they can't just…take you?"

"Nope. They need permission, I guess. They need Sam and me to say 'yes'."

Elena nodded thoughtfully. "Good thing."

"Yeah."

They walked in silence for a little while.

"You took the whole 'archangels' thing pretty well," Dean commented.

Elena shrugged. "Hey, there's that guy Castiel, he's an angel. There might as well be archangels too. Basically, I'm just preparing to take in all kinds of weird."

Dean nodded. He understood what she meant.

"By the way, where did Castiel go, anyway?" she asked.

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. Angels seem to just pop in and pop out. God knows where they go when they pop out."

Elena nodded, biting her lip. "Yeah."

They walked again, down another staircase and up another right at the bottom. Dean was seriously starting to think that this place was a maze with no end.

"So, the whole demon-hunting thing…when did you and Sam get into that?" Elena asked, getting into a whole new topic of the life of the Winchesters.

"Uh, when we were little, our mom died…I was four, Sam was a baby. Our dad found out that there are things like demons and vampires and werewolves and, well, all kinds of things out there that attack innocent people, including the demon that killed our mom. So we started hunting them."

"Wow," Elena said quietly. "You guys were young."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "But I guess the earlier you start out, the more prepared you are."

Elena nodded. "Guess so."

They were at the end of the hall when Elena asked the question that Dean had been waiting for her to ask.

"What happened to your dad?"

"He died…a couple of years ago."

"…oh." Elena nodded, brown eyes on the floor. "My parents died a while ago. Car crash."

"I'm sorry," Dean said gruffly, glancing at her when he said it.

Elena nodded. "Thanks."

"…were you in the car?"

"Yeah. But I was all right…a little roughed-up, but all right."

Dean nodded slowly. He'd only figured it out now, after talking to her, and it surprised him, but it seemed like he and Elena connected on quite a few different levels. And that was even before he found out that she had a little brother.

* * *

**I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long. But I am now, and I hope you liked this chapter; I worked hard on it. Tell me what you think!**

**Next chapter will star Damon Salvatore…and someone you may not expect.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi! I'm back, finally! It's been almost a month, and for that, I apologize. But, hey, I think I did decently on this chapter, so I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, it belongs to Eric Kripke. (Lucky bastard…) And I don't own the Vampire Diaries, it belongs to L.J. Smith.**

**A/N: I watched the premiere episode of the Vampire Diaries season 2, and was like, 'OMG, this is EXACTLY the way to kick start the new season!' And then I was like, 'Damon…Damon…I'm so sorry…Stefan, YOU BETTER KILL THAT BITCH!' I HATE Katherine!**

**A/N2: Supernatural starts **_**next week**_**. I **_**can't wait**_**. I miss my boys! *sniff* But lately, I've been entertaining myself with the season 5 DVD box set (what **_**is**_** Blu-Ray, anyway?), and the incredibly funny gag reel. I can't wait for the season 6 premiere!**

**A/N3: I'm sick. My allergies are driving me crazy and I have the flu, and it sucks. Just to tell you.**

**Okay. I hope you like this!**

* * *

**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

Chapter 11

Damon sat on the floor of his bedroom, his back against his bed, his legs stretched in front of him. He took the bottle in his hand and took a swig from it, shutting his eyes tightly and gritting his teeth against the wave of pain that came over him.

He wanted to die just then. He'd said to the younger Winchester, Sammy, that the whole Katherine ordeal didn't bother him anymore, than he'd gotten over it. He thought he'd been telling the truth.

But apparently talking about the love of your life not giving a shit about or wanting you anymore didn't help.

He should've known better. When he'd looked into Katherine's eyes for the first time, the phrase _the road to Hell is paved with good intentions_ had flashed through his mind. Not that he'd cared. She could drag him to hell right along with her and he wouldn't have minded.

He'd been stupid.

Everything he'd told Sammy about Katherine was true, the good and the bad. She was a lying bitch, sure, and Damon had no doubt that she hadn't changed, but he'd loved her anyway. And for her, it'd all been a game, screwing with him and his brother (both literally and figuratively). He should've seen that immediately. What would she have wanted with a couple of weak, average humans like he and Stefan had once been? Not that it mattered now. The damage had been done. Now he wanted to find Katherine and kill her but wanted her to take him back at the same time.

_I really do have problems, don't I?_ Damon rolled his eyes at himself and took another swallow. Whatever it was exactly that he was drinking, he'd forgotten at this point. He just knew that it had alcohol in it, and that was good enough for him.

There was a lightning flash and crack of thunder that was bright enough and loud enough to make Damon jump—something that didn't occur often. He glanced at the window, eyes wide. Damn, he hadn't even noticed that there was a storm.

…maybe there hadn't been.

"Hello, Damon."

Damon's head snapped up.

There was a man standing some ten feet away from him. He was in his early-late forties, and looked to be an average, couch potato kind of guy. There was only one thing about him that was different.

His skin. It was almost as though it was molting, very slowly peeling away…as though he had cancer. It may not have been cancer—Damon was no doctor—but it did not look healthy at all. The guy didn't look like he was in any pain, though.

Damon thought briefly, vaguely, about what he could do. Try to attack the guy, maybe. Threaten him. Say something snarky.

But he was drunk, too tired, in too much pain to make that much of an effort. He gestured to the man with the nearly-empty bottle in his hand in way of greeting.

"Yo."

The man gave him a small smile.

Damon took another swallow of his drink as he thought about what could have brought about these circumstances. Then he considered something. It was weird…but it didn't technically mean that it wasn't true.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked the guy, brow furrowed.

The man nodded. "Yes."

Damon nodded. "Huh. 'S a hell of a concept, isn't it?" He frowned, thinking. "I don't remember falling asleep."

"You're drunk," the man told him. "You passed out on your bed."

Damon blinked. "Huh. I passed out drunk and I'm drinking in my dream. I have problems. No question about it now."

The man smiled again. "Do you know who I am?"

Damon glanced at him. The guy reminded him almost of Rick, but he wasn't. "I don't believe I do."

"My name's Lucifer," the guy told him. "I'm a fallen archangel. Many call me the devil."

Damon nodded slowly at him, eyes wide. "O-oh."

Lucifer nodded at him, that small smile back.

"So…for what do I owe the pleasure?"

Damon really didn't know how to act any other way than pretend to be casual.

And wow…he _must_ be dreaming because in the real world, if he was as drunk as he was, he wouldn't have been able to form such coherent thoughts.

"I believe you've taken the Winchesters under your wing recently," Lucifer said.

Damon nodded. "Yup. I believe I know the two boys you're talking about."

"Do you know who they are? How important they are to the Apocalypse?"

Damon stared at him and nodded. "Yeah, I've gathered that." He took a deep, unneeded breath. "The very, very tall Sammy is your true human vessel, and his big brother Dean is _your_ big brother's vessel. You need their consent, or you can't go in."

Lucifer nodded. The vampire knew what he was talking about. "Yes. Sam will say yes, eventually. And the sooner he says yes, the sooner his pain goes away."

Ah. Sammy's pain. Damon nodded. "Yeah, that kid's been through a lot. Both of them have."

"And once they say yes, their pain—both their individual pain and the pain they share as a family—will stop."

Damon sighed, looking up at him. "I dunno if you _seriously_ think that you can convince me to convince them to say yes."

Lucifer simply shrugged, not removing his hands from where his thumbs were casually hooked into the pockets of his jeans, his silence somehow encouraging Damon to go on.

"Now, see," the vampire in question said, slowly getting to his feet, "not that I would ever admit it, but if I could convince them to say yes, I would. You wouldn't have even had to try to talk me into doing it; I would've already _done_ it. Because those two boys have been through more pain and suffering than any one person—part-demon, human, whatever—should ever have to. And I partially believe what you're saying."

"Partially?"

"If the Winchester brothers let you and your brother use them as vessels, therefore having more power and being able to burn the world to a crisp or whatever the hell you and your _brothers_ plan on doing on this place, then they'll have guilt from that, because that's just the Winchesters, so I've been told. But in any luck, if they can't save humanity—which, hey, they're hellsa troopers, but still, this is two humans again the rest of the universe we're talking about—then at least they can have some peace knowing that they saved humanity's souls, in the scenario that your brother won like he's supposed to if all goes well. They've been through so much, including the universe using them as its bitches. If anyone deserves some peace, it's them. So, yeah, I would try to convince them to say yes, if I could. But they wouldn't. They're fighting on the side of humanity with a two-man army. Those hunters, God help them, aren't about to give up, are gonna continue fighting just because it's the right thing, because they're doing what they've done all their life—saving people. And they're gonna take all the pain that comes with it…because that's just who they are."

Lucifer stared at the vampire, stunned.

"And I know that it's asking too much of you to lay off," Damon added, taking a step towards him, "but all the pain that they've endured, are enduring, and are gonna continue to endure is because of you, the Apocalypse, and all that's supposedly _preordained_. They've been through enough without adding you to the mix, if you ask me. Because you had a problem with your dad wanting to change things up a bit—you know, having someone around that wasn't "perfect" and "faultless", as you seem to think of yourselves, may I add _boring _to that—and couldn't suck up your family issues, having to go and be a bitch about it, those boys go through more pain than they deserve at all. So, whatever you think that I'll do for you to get Sam and Dean on your side? Not happening. Screw you."

As the devil continued to stare at him, Damon sat down on the edge of his bed.

"I rest my case," he said officially.

There was quiet for what seemed to stretch on for hours. Lucifer looked at him thoughtfully, jaw working as he thought about something deeply.

"That was quite a speech, Damon," he said.

Damon shrugged, stretching casually. "Thank you. I thought it was too, ya know. Didn't know I was capable of being so deep."

Lucifer smiled just a little, but it vanished quickly. "I see you've chosen your side."

The vampire just looked up at him, waiting. There was no denying that.

"It'll get you killed, you know," Lucifer told him, almost as though reminding him.

Damon shrugged. "Yeah. Probably. But, living on the edge—it's kinda my thing, you know?"

Lucifer nodded. "You're fighting on a losing side, Damon."

"Yeah, maybe. But hey," he shrugged again, "if the world's gonna end anyway, why not?"

Lucifer nodded again, and there was another long, thoughtful silence, during which Damon never broke eye contact with the devil.

Finally, Lucifer said, "You were thinking of Katherine before I came here."

Damon finally dropped his eyes, not responding.

"She was the love of your life, wasn't she?" Lucifer continued. "She still is."

Damon swallowed, and looked up at the devil once again. "So?" he asked, his voice rough, barely choked out, hardly more than a whisper.

"I know that's something to be called…a low blow. But I can give her back to you, Damon."

Damon snorted. "Everyone still thinks I give a damn about that bitch. I figured that you would be smarter than that."

"You're lying, Damon, you know that you still do."

Damon looked away sharply, the pain of that truth thrown out into the open mind-numbing.

"You still wish that she loved you, that she would take you back. And I can give her to you, and she will."

Damon snorted again, humorlessly. "Ha. See, that's where you're wrong. Katherine's got a mind of her own. If she doesn't want me, she won't take me."

"I didn't say it would be in this dimension." His voice was too soft to be the devil's.

Damon just shook his head. "It wouldn't be the same."

"But it would feel the same, Damon. You'd have happiness, something you deserve more than most believe."

Damon heaved a sigh. "Did you forget the "screw you" part of my speech?"

"No, I didn't."

"And I'm not some moping, emo bitch like my brother. I don't want anything from you. So go back to your demon bitches, and forget about me helping you do more damage than you've already done," Damon said, his voice ringing with finality, looking Lucifer in the eye once again, fearlessly.

Lucifer sighed. "You have to wake up now, anyway. This doesn't mean I'm giving up on you, because you're strong, Damon, and I could use you on my side."

"Yeah, well, you aren't getting me. So…" he made a gesture with both hands. "Go on your merry way."

Lucifer nodded, then looked Damon directly in the eye. "This won't be the last time we see each other, Damon. I can guarantee that."

Damon believed him. But he put on a cruel smirk and said, "Because it's _destiny_, right?"

The devil nodded once, not at all fazed. "Exactly." And with that, he vanished.

Damon was alone in his subconscious for a brief moment before his eyes opened.

* * *

Waking up didn't feel any different than it normally did. He simply did, calmly, and feeling as though he had rested the whole night, even though his mind knew better than that.

Sun was shining directly into his eyes though, and, even while wearing his ring, that was painful. He shot upright, and moved to the foot of his bed, out of the way of the sun's merciless rays. Damn, he _must've_ passed out drunk if the curtains weren't closed. He always closed them before he slept, in case his ring _slipped off_ as he slept or came off otherwise

"Ah, the joys of not having a hangover," he murmured to himself; it was one on the long list of things that Damon saw as making a vampire fun.

His dream, his encounter with Lucifer, was sharp and clear in his head. He'd really got to going telling the devil his exact thoughts on those two boys, he thought. Ah, well, he always did like to get his point across.

And then he thought, _Those two boys that I made my speech about dragged me into the Apocalypse and are probably gonna get me killed._

He just shrugged. He always _had_ thought that life in Mystic Falls was boring.

* * *

**I wrote most of this in the last two hours, including Damon's "speeches". I thought about this chapter a lot, and decided that this was just the way I wanted to do it. So tell me what you think!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey! Okay, I literally **_**just**_** wrote this, and I've only got a few minutes to finish my A/N's. And I just wrote all of it. I just got my laptop, which has been in Texas being repaired for the last two weeks, back, and I just started writing, inspired. This is what happened.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the Vampire Diaries, they belong to Eric Kripke and L.J. Smith.**

**Enjoy!**

**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

**

* * *

**

Chapter 12

"Dude, in 1864, this place was _crawling_ with vampires. There were some witches around, too."

"And all these vampires were locked in a church and burned. Yeah, Stefan told me about that. Elena had some add-ins. Twenty-seven vampires, right?"

"…twenty-six, actually."

"Whadda you mean?"

"The council _thought_ that there were twenty-seven vampires that they burned in the tomb. Really there were only twenty-six."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Which bloodsucker got away?"

"A vampire named Katherine Pierce...Stefan didn't tell you about her?"

"No." Dean sat back, jaw working. "He didn't."

Sam frowned, looking down. "I can probably guess why. She's the one that turned Stefan and Damon into vampires."

"…_both_ of them?"

"Yeah…either she couldn't decide or it was an accident, I couldn't really decipher that part. But for a hundred and forty-five years, they thought that she was in the tomb with the rest of them, trapped and starving. Damon tried to get her out—they got some help from a witch—and that was when he found out that she wasn't down there. And somehow, someone assured Damon that Katherine never cared."

"_Shit_." Dean frowned. "Almost makes me feel bad for the guy. …well, ya know, almost. _I_ got told about all the people Damon's snacked on, to give you a first clue."

"He's killing people? _Now_? I thought—"

"He isn't. I guess he usually drinks blood from blood banks, but sometimes he compels girls and snacks on them occasionally."

Sam nodded slowly. "And since he's compelled them, the girls don't even remember after."

"Right."

Sam took a deep breath, sitting back. "This town is…screwed up, man."

"Yeah, it's got a colorful history."

"And plus, we're working with these vampire brothers, the one who's a good guy and the other one is a not-quite-recovering bloodaholic. I don't mean to dwell, I seriously don't, but our situation is so weird I can't really get past it."

"Yeah. Believe me, I know what you mean."

Both Winchesters looked up at the door opening, not seeing who they'd expected but a pleasant surprise to see.

"Elena, hey," Dean greeted.

She smiled, closing the door. "Hey." She came up to the table where the brothers were sitting across from each other, and looked between them, biting her lip like she wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to put it.

"What is it, Elena?" Sam asked, concerned.

"It's not anything bad," she assured quickly. "I just wanted to know how much longer you guys were staying in town."

Dean glanced at his brother for a second before leaning forward, looking up into Elena's brown eyes once again. "Honestly, we don't know. We aren't sure if there's still something going on here…"

"Right," she muttered. Then, she asked more clearly, "So, is what you two were talking about to personal for me to intervene and ask about, or…"

"Nah, we're just…talking about this town," Sam explained as best as he could. "We've never come to a town like this, with varied supernatural beings and the community not seeming to be plagued."

Elena nodded, understanding. "Yeah. Sometimes I wonder if any of this is even real, it's so…different. Everything for the people in the town is so _normal_. They have no idea what's even going on right under their noses, you know? I've had to lie to a lot of people to keep suspicions down. My aunt, my friends, my brother…it's difficult sometimes. I know you guys move around a lot without raising much suspicion, but Mystic Falls is where I live, you know? It's my friends, people I've known all my life, that I'm lying to and keeping secrets from."

Sam and Dean were nodding slowly, looking up at her, understand every word she said.

Elena hesitated. "I don't mean to sound bitchy or anything—"

"Oh, you're not," Dean assured her. "Believe me."

She smiled gratefully. "Thanks. It's just that…it gets hard sometimes. Here I am, talking freely and openly about the supernatural and vampires and witches and all the weird crap that goes on in Mystic Falls, and…it's kinda nice."

They both nodded again, neither having real words to reply to that.

A few moments later, Dean was chewing his lower lip, thinking deeply about something. "Ya know, I wonder if they knew about vampires being here when they came up 'Mystic Falls' for the town."

There were a few seconds of silence, during which Dean, Sam and Elena looked at each other, processing that. And then the three of them were all laughing.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," Elena giggled. "I've never really gotten it. The relationship between the town's name and all the abnormal crap that goes on around her never even occurred to me until now."

And the three all laughed a while longer, feeling some of the tension they'd all had in mind and body for a while now drain away. It felt good to laugh.

Eventually, when they were more sober (but not completely), Sam murmured, "And then there's _Damon_…"

"Oh my God, Damon." Elena rolled her eyes long-sufferingly. "He's just, like, the icing on the cake, you know? He makes all of the craziness going on around here _completely_ insane. But sometimes, it's just kinda like 'you know…why not?' You'd be surprised, sometimes he's not that bad of a guy. If you're sinking into some kind of…_black hole_, he'll pull you out."

Sam and Dean were both looking at her with interest. "That's an interesting metaphor," Sam commented quietly.

Elena looked at him and kind of shrugged. "That's what it feels like a lot of the time, though. One way I can think to really describe Damon…is that he's, like…a bipolar vampire. One minute he wants to be your friend, and the next he wants to snap your neck!"

"Will I be paying for this hour or is it on the house?" a familiar, smooth voice asked slowly, just as Damon came into view, buttoning up his shirt. He looked at the three of them expectantly, seriously, almost as though really waiting for an answer. Then he smirked and focused on his current task.

Elena scoffed. "Eavesdropping again, Salvatore?"

"Oh, for the love of God, spare me. I don't eavesdrop! I just…happen to listen in on conversations without intending to with my special vampire hearing! It's nothing something I can _help_, Gilbert."

The two held eye contact for a second, and Elena broke away first, shaking her head. "Yeah, that's an argument I would take time to listen to. Mm-_hm_."

"If it's any constellation, you had me convinced," Sam offered. Damon smirked but didn't look up from his fingers or say a word as he finished.

"So, Damon," Elena began, "it's nearly…" she checked her watch. "…two in the afternoon. What gives?"

He looked at her skeptically. "Do you honestly expect me to be a morning person? I'm a _vampire_, Gilbert…in case you don't recall."

"Oh, I do recall. But Stefan manages getting to school, ya know."

"Yeah, well…Stefan's more responsible than I am. He cares about…_education _and _historic recognition _and _punctuality _and all that shit. Me? Ha, not hardly." Then he looked up. "Speaking of Stefan, where the hell is he?"

"I was about to ask the same question," Elena said, turning to the Winchesters along with Damon.

Sam paused for a second, glancing at Dean before saying to them both, "A body was found up by the Old Creek in the cemetery. Stefan went to go check it out. We were gonna go along with him—we have our F.B.I. badges to show, and we wanted to check it out to—but Stefan somehow convinced us to stay here."

"How long has he been gone?" Elena asked.

"About an hour and a half. He'll probably be back pretty soon, why?" Sam asked.

Elena shrugged. "Just…curious. And being a worried, clingy girlfriend."

Sam smiled. "I think you're a pretty good girlfriend to him."

"Well, thanks," Elena said, surprised.

"Let me take a wild guess…" Damon said, pausing as though thinking about it. "The body was completely drained of blood, with puncture wounds in their neck?"

Dean nodded. "Yahtzee."

"More rogue vampires. _Great_. Absolutely _awesome_." Damon rolled his eyes, going over to one of the tables to pick up a shot glass and pour a bottle of some alcoholic liquid that was so old it was dusty into it. "You know what I'd like to do? I'd like to set fire to every vampire on this planet, or any other."

Dean paused. "What, you think that vampires are on the moon?"

"Eh, they could be."

Sam turned towards Damon. "Setting fire to every vampire on this planet or any other…is that including you and Stefan?"

Damon shrugged. "Hey, why the hell not?"

_Yup. Elena was right. Bipolar vampire._

There was a slight creak as Bobby rolled his wheelchair out of one of the many doorways and up to the table where the group of four seemed to be circling around. "Stefan back yet?"

Sam and Dean shook their heads. "Nope, not yet."

"That's good, because if he was already back without telling me about the vic's body first thing I'd be kicking his ass about now." There was a silence that was almost deafening with unspoken retorts, hesitant thoughts, and consideration of how far a man's willpower could take him. Bobby looked around at them all and rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up, I'd find a way."

Simultaneously the front door opened, and they all lifted their heads to watch Stefan come in, holding a few papers in his hand.

"There wasn't much else about the body that we didn't already know, except for one thing."

"…are you gonna tell us, or keep us on the edge of our seats about the matter?" Damon questioned. Stefan rolled his eyes and continued, ignoring his brother.

"There was blood spilled in spots on the grass and on the road from the creek to a motel just outside of town. The amount was so minute that the police didn't notice, but I could smell it. And it was the victim's blood. Whatever vampire it was that attacked her, I'd bet that they're there."

"All right." Dean stood, Sam doing the same simultaneously. "Let's do this. We just need some time to get our shit together—"

"Um," Stefan cut in hesitantly, trying not to be rude. "Actually, I was thinking that you guys should head out of town…get working on a case."

Dean raised his eyebrows slowly. "This _is _a case."

"I know that. But all the murders going on around here, the vampire attacks…we have no idea of how long they're going to go on. The Apocalypse is happening, you and Sam have got work to do. You shouldn't dwell here. Damon and I, we can take care of it."

There was quiet in the room for a second. Sam and Dean glanced at each other. Then the younger brother said, "Are you sure we should do that?"

"Almost positive. I've been thinking about it, and, yes. There are surely other endangered lives to be saved elsewhere. Damon and I can keep things under control around here. If we need help, we'll call you. But for now, you should go on with more cases."

The Winchesters stood in silence. They couldn't argue with the logic. But…

"All right," Dean said reluctantly. "We'll…pack our stuff and head out tonight."

Stefan nodded. And, well…that was that.

That afternoon was spent with the Winchesters packing everything; their weapons, their books on evil creatures (including their dad's journal)…and then their clothes and other normal things like that. They rechecked the Devil's Traps and sigils and other symbols warding off evil things—other than vampires. They made sure there was salt on every windowsill and doorstep of the whole friggin' huge damn house. Now it was around six o'clock—already dark out, considering it was January—and the Winchesters were ready to put Mystic Falls in the Impala's rearview mirror.

Elena had been trying not to show it, but she was clearly crestfallen. She really liked the Winchesters, especially Dean. It wasn't just nice to lessen the burden of all the lies she had to tell and secrets she had to keep to keep Stefan and Damon's identities safe, they were just easy to get along with. There was less tension with them than she had with nearly everyone lately. She was sorry to see them go…and almost wished that there was some sort of reason, something about the most recent murder, that made them have to stay. At the same time, she felt guilty that she wanted it to be even stranger than normal, because that would probably mean that more people would die. So she tried to act like it didn't bother her.

Sam and Dean stood with their bags packed, weapons in the trunk of the Impala and their duffels over their shoulders. They were near the door, looking over at their old friend. "What're you gonna do?" Sam asked.

"I'm gonna stay in town for a few more days," Bobby replied. "I've got some things to check on, some loose ends to tie up."

They nodded, the vague answer enough. Then they both gave a nod to the Salvatores in goodbye. Nods that they were surprised to see Damon return as well as Stefan.

With that, they were about to leave. But then Elena shrugged out from behind Stefan and jogged up to them. "So, uh…I'll see you guys later." Her cheerfulness was clearly forced. "Soon, I kinda hope."

"Yeah, uh…" Then Dean did something that surprised even himself, hugging her briefly, letting his lips brush her hair. "See ya, Gilbert."

Elena leaned back, nodding. Then, because it seemed proper at this point, she and Sam hugged quickly as well. Then the Winchesters left, going out into the dark, cold night, getting into the Impala and speeding away from the boarding house.

* * *

There was a tension in the car that was so real it could almost be cut in half. There was just something that needed to be said.

"It doesn't feel right leaving like this," Dean said plainly. "I mean, we're leaving a job wide open…"

"Yeah, I know, man. But all that Stefan said…he's right. There's an Apocalypse going on. We need to figure out how to stop it."

"Yeah…but that doesn't mean I'm happy about it."

"I'm not either."

They drive in silence for just a few seconds before Dean said, "We're going back."

"Definitely."

And Dean made a U-Turn.

Yeah, there was an Apocalypse to be dealt with. But right now, there were some rogue vampires taking lives and blood in Mystic Falls that needed to be destroyed. And damned if the two hunters were gonna leave a job like that.

Dean was putting the pedal to the metal even faster than he had driving out of town. But when the headlights suddenly illuminated the figure of a person standing right in the front of it, he slammed on the brakes.

"SHIT!"

The sudden stop jerked both Winchesters forward, then stilled them in their seats. It had been too late; the body had tumbled over the car. Sam and Dean got out, closing the doors behind them and rushing behind the car.

On the pavement, a young woman lay on her side with her back to them, blood seeping onto the pavement and her black hair spilling on the cement around her head. She was absolutely still. When they leaned down, and got so close they should've heard her breathing, they didn't. Dean looked at Sam, heaving a deep sigh. _Damn it,_ he thought angrily. Then: _How the hell was she standing there right in the middle of the road?_

The next actions happened so fast that Dean's mind barely registered it. The young woman rolled over and grabbed Dean by the throat, flinging him to the other side of the road and into a tree. He was flying through the air—the chick was strong, inhumanly strong—and heard Sam shout, "DEAN!" right before his head slammed into the tree and he lost consciousness.

* * *

**Ooh, my very first cliffy. So, tell me how pissed you are with me; I'd love to hear it! And c'mon, I couldn't let the boys leave the drama that easily! P.S. I used the word 'shit' exactly four times this chapter. Aren't you proud of me? Haha, tell me what you think! And check out my new VD story, Broken Souls!**


	13. Chapter 13

**I seriously do not like this chapter. I HATE it. But I've been an ass about updating (or rather, the lack of updating FOR A MONTH), and you guys deserve something. Happy holidays.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the boys (damn), but I do own Alischa (not my best OC, I don't think).**

**Just Another Day in Mystic Falls**

**

* * *

**Chapter 13

"Mm," Dean groaned, rolling over onto his stomach. His head pounded, and he wasn't entirely sure that he wouldn't puke in the next five minutes. He then rolled onto his back once again, feeling his pockets to be sure that he had all of the weapons he came with still on him; the gun was still in his inner jacket pocket and the knife was still tucked into his belt. _Yeah, all good,_ he thought vaguely, painfully, raising himself to his knees. Immediately he keeled over, vomiting violently.

_Bad goddamn idea, Dean,_ he thought regrettably as he heaved.

Eventually, however, the nausea subsided—for the meantime, at least—and he was able to sit back, leaning against the tree that he'd woken up lying at an awkward angle beneath. He breathed the cool, fresh, head-clearing air deeply, trying to recall what had happen.

_Mystic Falls, car crash, Sammy, girl…vampire girl…_

Bitch _threw me into the tree! _He thought indignantly.

"Sam," he called.

No reply.

Dean leaned most of his weight onto the tree as he stood, despite the nausea that racked through his body, refusing to crawl around on his hands and knees like some pathetic little idiot. He could stand on his own two _feet_, damn it. "Sam!" he shouted once again, looking around; it was still dark, which meant that his younger brother couldn't have gone far.

He found himself losing balance, and his knees buckling, so he leaned against the car—his baby, the one who always gave him support no matter what. But, looking around, Sam was nowhere to be found. There was no trace of him whatsoever.

"Sammy!" he shouted anyway, as loud as he could, hoping to get some kind of response. "SAM!"

His only reply was the loneliness of absolute silence.

And his instinctive thought was, _Vampire whore took him,_ which was probably the most accurate and least bad thing that could've happened to him. Stumbling a little further, Dean actually fell to his knees to find Sam's cell phone lying there…broken, if Dean knew anything about phones. The bitch must've done a number on him.

Feeling something annoying trickle down the sides of his face, and a throbbing pain in his head that was making his stomach do somersaults again, he reached, and, upon his fingertips encountering whatever it was on him, pulled his hand back.

_Blood. Absolutely terrific._

_God…I need help._

No sooner had he formed the thought when Sam's phone started ringing, a loud and high and annoying sound that made his head throb even louder. He grabbed the cell phone, looking at the caller ID; 'Stefan'. Dean connected the two. _'I need help.' 'Stefan.'_ Sounded about right. So, because he wanted the ringing sound to stop and because his brother was missing, he answered it, putting the phone to his ear.

"Stefan, we've got issues."

"When _don't_ we?" came the bitingly sarcastic reply that was anything but a response from Stefan Salvatore.

Dean sighed, long-sufferingly and loudly. "Damon, what the hell are you doing with Stefan's phone?"

"I stole it," Damon replied cheerfully, in an almost singsong tone.

Dean rolled his eyes, painful as the action might be. "Typical."

"So…you were saying?"

"That we've got issues."

"God, I thought we'd gotten rid of you two."

"Just not lucky enough, I guess."

"What do you want from us now, you poor, poor bastard, you?"

_I'm gonna rip his head off…_ "It's Sam. We were going on our way—" Back _into _town, Dean did not add, "And this chick appeared out of nowhere in front of the car. We hit her, she didn't die."

"She didn't, now?"

"No. Quite the contrary, she flung me to the other side of the road, into the tree. The bitch gave me a concussion."

There was a short period of silence.

"…interesting. Put your brother on."

Dean gave a little, kind of helpless laugh, one that held no humor. "I, uh, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Sam's gone. She took him."

"…all right." There was some movement on the other end, like Damon was moving around, and someone said something in the background. Damon scoffed at them before saying into the phone, "All right, I'll come get you. I won't be very long. Is your head bleeding?"

Dean sighed, lifting his arm to scrub at it the blood dripping down his forehead with his sleeve. "Yeah."

"Crap," Damon muttered. "Uh, okay. Stay there."

"Hey, _I_ can drive back there. I didn't total my car."

"Probably not. But, you have a concussion. And I think that as a responsible 169-year-old adult, I shouldn't let you drive like that. Or is that driving drunk? Whatever, quit distracting me, I'll see you in a few minutes anyway." The vampire hung up.

Dean raised an eyebrow, pressing 'End' and putting his cell phone in his pocket. Damon Salvatore had hung up on him. _Damon Salvatore_ had _hung up _on _him_. _Dean_ was the one that hung up on people. But he wasn't able to finish his thought, because bile rose into his throat, and he turned away from his car, the sudden movement not helping his somersaulting stomach, but it didn't matter because he threw up on the grass again.

_Nope. Not good._

And Dean wouldn't admit later, but he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt someone grasp his arm and pull him to his feet, muttering, "Come on, dude, you can't just sit here projectile vomiting all night."

"I am not _projectile _vomiting. I'm just vomiting," Dean retorted, albeit weakly, and he noticed that he was actually _leaning_ into Damon, who had an arm around him in support, and wouldn't be able to pull away if he wanted to (which, he wanted to because hey, a vampire helping a hunter counted as freaky in Dean's book); he wasn't strong enough. So he let Damon help him along, because he had no other options, although crawling on his hands and knees looked pretty good right about now.

"You come up with the dumbest arguments, you know that?" Damon murmured. "Do concussions make your brain stupid or is this just normal you?"

"You know what, shut up," Dean snapped, pulling away from Damon, taking a step on his own and feeling the world tilt, stumbling.

He felt Damon's hands again, one around his middle and the other gripping his arm, pulling him back to his feet. "Yes, you are such a badass."

"I have a concussion, I ca…I can't help it," he stumbled over his words. "And you aren't driving my car!"

"Yes, I am, because you can't. Shut up and get in the car."

It might've been the concussion, but Dean felt that if he didn't do exactly what Damon said he'd probably get knocked out and locked in the trunk until they got back to the boarding house. Then Damon was opening the driver's side door and pushing Dean through to the passenger seat, climbing inside himself, shutting the door and starting the car.

"Just so you know, Salvatore, if you screw up my car—at all—I will drive a stake through your heart."

"I'm shaking."

"I mean it."

"Shut up before you hurt yourself, okay?"

* * *

Awareness came to Sam unevenly, with different things at a time. The first thing he realized was that his body throbbed all over, his head in particular. Then he realized that, despite all that, he was very comfortable, and he didn't want to open his eyes, even with the logic that he would have to eventually. After that, some talking that was nearby but muffled by a wall between him and them. Along with that, it was very dark, even though his body's clock told him it was daylight. Something must've been blocking it.

After a few moments, he also thought in random, short bursts,

_Vampires_, _Mystic Falls_, _car crash, vampire chick, blackness_.

Awesome.

He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter for a second before opening them. He could barely see, even though his vision was slowly coming accustomed to the darkness in the room.

He went to move his arms where they lay above his head, to sit up. But something pulled his wrists back, and he heard a small clinking sound. Experimentally pulling his feet back, he encountered the same dilemma. He groaned, more outwardly than inwardly, although he knew he would regret the loud sound.

Chained to a bed. That was never good.

As expected, Sam was coming to regret his loud groan when he saw the door open out of his peripheral vision.

"Well, well, well, someone's awake." And the girl absentmindedly pushed the door shut, moving further into the room, slowly and at her leisure.

"Where's my brother?" he demanded.

"Oh, not here," she replied calmly. "We don't need Deano. But I left him there at the "car crash" scene. He'll be fine, as long as the concussion wasn't too bad."

_As long as you freaks don't have my brother._ He didn't doubt she was telling the truth; she had no reason to lie. "So," Sam said, "demon bitch or vampire whore?"

"Vampire, naturally," she said calmly. "And as for a whore or a bitch? A bit of both." With that she sat on the edge of the bed, _way_ too close to Sam as far as he was concerned. "Hmm…" she placed a hand that was so pale Sam could see it through the darkness on his chest, running it slowly along his lean torso. "We've never met before, but I've heard of you. And I am quite pleased to say that I _am_ impressed. Lucifer needs a decent vessel if he's going to bring the world to it's knees, don't you think?"

That had Sam looking at her, studying her. From what he could see, she was a slender girl—vampire—and not very tall, with long, thick, dark hair hanging around her shoulders. Dark hair…

His mind flipped back to the events that could've happened hours ago, as far as he knew. The girl that lay on the ground, seemingly dead, pale as snow. And her face, one that Sam could easily connect with the vampire that sat so near him now.

She'd also been wearing the same long white dress as the vampire here.

"Wow…I'm actually surprised here. Lucifer, stooping down as low as to work with vermin like you. Then again, he's got demons doing his dirty work everywhere you turn…"

The vampire gave a small, not-totally-stable laugh. "God, you know, Lucifer _really_ wants me to get you to him in one piece. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I took out a few chunks, you think?"

Sam swallowed. Vampires could be bitches. And he really doubted he would like being bitten. But Winchesters weren't known for giving in. "I dunno, he might not appreciate you damaging the merchandise. He'd probably just kill you. Hell, there are thousands of vampires in the world, you're just another for him to use." Yeah, he sounded like his brother. But what was he expected to do, lie here and die and not let the vampire know that she was a sorry bitch for thinking that working for Lucifer would give her a 'Get Out of Hell on Earth Free' card?

She laughed again, softly, lightly; it sounded like a little girl's laughter. Then Sam felt her grab him by the throat and yank his head back, moving forward and burying her fangs in her throat.

He let out a gasp at the sudden pain, the vampire ripping into his throat. She _gnawed_, like a dog on a rawhide. And then she pulled back, but didn't release his head, making him look at her.

"Katie was stupid enough to let her and her little gang get themselves killed. Lucifer _really_ wants you, Sam. He can't end the world without you. And me, bringing you to him? Ah, he'll be grateful. He'll spare me, unlike he wouldn't have Katie if you Winchesters and those Salvatores hadn't killed her."

"Wow," he got out around the pain that was still spreading like fire, flaring up his cheek, in his neck and down into his chest. "You are a stupid, stupid leech. You're _disposable_ to Lucifer. He doesn't need you. He'll kill you as soon as you're no longer of use to him, you realize that, right?"

Leaning down, she growled, "Forget bringing you to him in just a few pieces, I'm ready to rip you apart. Just give me the chance, Lucifer will be able to revive you anyway." Her voice softened, but it was still a snarl. "You're _lying_ to me, Sammy. I don't like liars." And with that, she release his head, and it fell back down on the pillow.

The door opened again, and a bright, almost painful light washed over the room briefly as another vampire came in and handed her something long and slender, something that Sam didn't recognize.

"Thank you, James," she told the other vampire briefly. "And remember, we leave at nightfall."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied respectfully, exiting the room, closing the door behind him.

Turning back to Sam, the vampire girl uncapped the object in her hand, which Sam then realized was a syringe.

"You might be weak now, but we can't have you regaining your strength and getting away. You've slipped from Lucifer's fingers too many times, and he told us to take all precautions to be sure that you couldn't escape." With that she snapped his head to one side and immediately sank the needle in, despite the fact that Sam fought and tried to throw her off. His body was prone, however; his restrains were already taut, holding him against the bed. As he watched the vampire girl withdraw, however, setting the syringe aside, he felt his body becoming weaker, more relaxed, tired. He barely had enough time to fight against the wave of unconsciousness that threatened to overwhelm him before his eyes were sliding shut.

The very last thing he heard was already faraway sounding, muffled. "By the way, you can call me Alischa." And the unconsciousness overcame him.

**Shouldn't be much left now. Please review!**


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